


We Don't Have to Dance

by ironiclittlebaby



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Band Fic, Dark, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Enemies, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Rivalry, Slow Burn, Smut, band au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 89,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17150882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironiclittlebaby/pseuds/ironiclittlebaby
Summary: Sal Fisher and Larry Johnson are taking the world of heavy metal by storm.And their rivalry is too."He waited until after the first song to take his shirt off. He took it off, wiped the sweat off his brow, and then tossed it into the crowd of screaming girls. “Sorry, I just needed to get more comfortable.” He winked. His long brown hair stuck to the sweat on his skin. His tattoos were bold under the lights, and his piercings glimmered under the strobes. He was right. He was a fucking god.And Sal hated him for it."





	1. Chapter 1

“Can you just hurry the fuck up?” A boy with blue hair rolled his eye. His pants were around his ankles and so were his boxers, and he was leaned against a dirty sink in a hot, sweaty club. The music was pounding outside of this one room bathroom, filling the room with much-needed white noise, and the blue-haired boy had a small ball of sweat dripping from his forehead down to his lips. The sweat was trapped to his skin by a white and pink prosthetic, covering something brutal. “I said to hurry up! I feel fucking stupid just standing here with my dick out.”

“Can you give me a second?” A boy with long brown hair was busy fiddling with a condom packet that just wouldn’t open. “Or do you want me to raw you this time?”

“As if you have the balls to do that. Look, just fucking give it to me.” He snatched the condom out of the brunette’s hands. “Idiot.”

“Hey!”

With ease, the shorter boy tore open the pack with his long fingers. “Now take it, put it on, and fuck me already. We’re running late.” He held it out at him with just an index and thumb, like it was a disgusting tissue.

“Aw, what? Scared of getting caught?” The brunette undid his pants and pulled out his erection. “Bite me, Sal. You take longer getting ready to suck my dick on a good day.” He rolled on the condom with a shaking hand before walking up to the other boy. He stood about a foot taller than him. He smelled like weed and vanilla. “Lean back, rockstar.”

Sal started to lift himself on to the sink counter, but the other boy got impatient and decided to lift him by the waist with one arm while guiding his thick cock to his lubed entrance. Both boys let out aggressive moans as the heat and pleasured filled them both up. As if a switch was flipped, the brunette put one hand against the wall to steady himself before pounding into the other.

“Oh, fuck, Larry!” Sal groaned. He put one of his hands behind him to support him. His eyes closed and his mouth hung open as little yelps escaped his throat. “Harder! Make it fucking hurt!”

Larry obliged, thrusting harder while moaning loudly into Sal’s ear. He nipped along Sal’s long, pale neck. “You’re such a fucking slut.” He bit down hard on his earlobe, making him scream into Larry’s neck.

It was true. Sal Fisher was a slut. He fucks former friends and current rivals in the bathroom of venues they just played. He lets out whimpers of pleasure in gross underground clubs while rock music plays just outside. But he wasn’t the only slut here. Larry gets on his knees in empty green rooms during intermissions, too. And Larry pulls Sal’s hair in the empty tour buses while he fucks Sal from behind and leaves bites on his spine.

Sal’s hand started to trail up Larry’s back, but before he could shove his nails into his tan skin, his wrist was grabbed and slammed against the wall. “Not this time.” Larry panted. “They almost fucking noticed. Nosey little fuckers.” He smirked. “I told them that you were a groupie.” Thrust. “A big-tit slut.” Thrust. “Someone I could actually tolerate!”

“Someone you could tolerate?” Sal growled. “You’re lucky I even let you near me. You can’t stop yourself from being obsessed with my fucking ass.”

“You’re the one always waiting for me!” Larry slammed into him. “Waiting for me. Bent over like a little bitch.” And with a final thrust, Larry doubled over and pressed his forehead into Sal’s prosthetic mask. He’s hands shook and for a second, it seemed like he would drop Sal as he came. He let out one final moan before taking Sal’s throbbing erection into his hand. “Hurry the fuck up!” He said in a mocking tone.

“That was fast!”

Larry shrugged. “I played a good show. I deserve it.”

Sal pushed back against Larry’s forehead. He made sure Larry could stare into his eye. He stared at his piercings, his scruff, his dark brown eyes that were full of something animal. “I fucking hate your guts.”

“I would have never guessed.” He glared back. “For someone who hates my guts, you sure do love my cock in your ass.” He took his other hand and tangled it into Sal’s shaggy blue hair, which was tied up in pigtails. He yanked, hard, forcing Sal to look down at his own dick as Larry’s jerked him off. The sight alone was just too much for Sal, and he let out a strangled moan while he came onto his own stomach.

Larry grabbed Sal’s face and pulled it up to look at him. “Next time, bring a fucking muzzle. I hate your fucking voice.” He lifted Sal by the waist to get himself out of him. He turned away and zipped his pants back up. He flung the dirty condom into the toilet.

Sal frowned and started to pull his pants back up. “Fuck you. I hope you trip in Phoenix. Break your fucking ankle.”

“I hope you break your hand. Good luck ever headlining without a guitarist.”

“I hope your bus crashes!” Sal shouted. He walked forward and shove Larry’s arm. “Would love to see your intestines all over the road. Have my driver run over it. Spread it farther.”

Larry narrowed his eyes and smirked. His lip piercing shined in the bathroom lights. “I wish I could see under your face. I wish I could see the looks you fucking give me.” He hesitated for a second before turning around. “See you in Phoenix, Sally Face.”

And with that, the door to the bathroom slammed shut.

Sal paused for a moment before turning around to look in the mirror. His mask stared back at him, empty eyeholes and a flat expression. Nothingness.

Good. That’s all Larry Johnson deserved to see.

Larry Johnson.

Larry fucking Johnson.

He stormed out of the bathroom after about five minutes. The coast should be clear enough. He pushed through pulsing, sweaty, sexy crowds to the backdoor of the club and out onto the street. There were four people waiting outside of a large red tour bus, two smoking like chimneys and two stuffing their faces with McDonalds. In a large, demonic font, the bus read ‘The Sally Face Killers’. A big imagine of Sal’s mask started back at him.

“You’re late. Again.” A girl in a purple top dropped her cigarette and rubbed it into the ground with her heel. The girl with grey hair next to her did the same.

“Sanity’s Fall pulled out a few minutes ago. That have to do with anything?”

“Not at all. Got caught up talking to a guy on the dancefloor.” Sal walked up and crossed his arms, feeling weirdly exposed in the hot summer air. “I’m fine, Ash. It was a no-go. He just wanted me to show his demo to Red.” He rolled his eyes. “We should head out. It’s my fault we’re already late. I don’t want to miss the interviews tomorrow.”

“They’re doing one with Sanity’s Fall, too.” Todd finished his burger and sat back against the side of the bus. Next to him, a boy with a baseball cap was finishing burger number three. “Theirs is before ours. Keep your temper in control this time, okay?”

Sal just nodded back silently before walking inside the bus.

“If Maple and Chug have tour bus sex during an interview again, I’m suing all of you for emotional damages.” Ash laughed before following Sal.

She followed him through the bus to his small, cramped bed, where he curled up silently and faced the plastic wall. “Sal?” She asked quietly. “What actually happened?”

“Nothing.” He muttered through his mask.

“I know it had to do with Larry. I know you.” She sat on her own bed across the aisle from his. “After like seven years of friendship, you would think some honesty is in order.”

“I’m not going to answer you.” Sal reached up and unbuckled his mask. “I just want to sleep. This show was hard. I was bad.”

“It was hard because Larry was here. You know for a fact you didn’t fuck up once. You never do.” Sal could hear Ash crawl backwards into her bed. “I will be here, reading all night once again if you need to talk.” She could never sleep during the drives.

Sal pulled up his thin throw blanket around himself. “You’ll see me after a nightmare or two. Maybe I can actually finish the new single’s lyrics before we get back to HQ.” He heard Chug climb onto the bus, with Maple and Todd following behind.

“No breaks this time!” Chug called as he started the bus. “Get comfortable.”

“Oh, Sal?” Ash whispered. “He left a hickey. Behind your ear.”

He slapped a hand on his neck. “Motherfucker.” He muttered before pulling the blanket up higher.

“Goodnight, Sal.” She smirked and sat back in her bed. “See you in Phoenix.”


	2. Chapter 2

“We are here now with the lead singer of underdog uprising heavy metal band, Sanity’s Fall! Larry Johnson, ladies and gentlemen!” The radio DJ clapped into the mic. “Larry. Larry, Larry, Larry. We are honored to have you here. Sanity’s Fall has been taking the world by storm.”

Larry sat back in his chair, his hair tossed messily around the headphones. “Thank you so much, Joe. I’m honored to be here, too. This is the main channel we have playing in the bus during rides.”

“Oh, really?”

“Definitely!” Larry laughed. “Finally meeting you is like seeing an old friend.”

“Fucking charming dick.” Sal muttered under his breath.

Him and his band were stood behind the glass, watching Larry hypnotize the DJ and the rest of the United States in front of the mic. They were next, or at least Sal and Todd were, and watching this cocky display was just making Sal’s blood boil.

Behind him, his band and Larry’s band were having small talk. The only people with real issues were the two leaders, but their rivalry was popular enough to where everyone else felt obligated enough to keep up public appearances. Inside, though, they were peaceful. Everyone was peaceful.

Except for Sal and Larry.

“So, Larry, the whole reason you even got this far was because of a huge change you made about two years ago. You left The Sally Face Killers, right after the release of their first major album.” The radio DJ sounded serious. “We all see the showy shenanigans between you and Sally Face himself, but let’s be realistic. How do you really feel about leaving that band to go start your own?”

Larry put his hands behind his head and started through the glass right at Sal. “Best decision I’ve ever made. Sometimes you just need to do the right thing.” He looked at the DJ again. “I’ve gotten to finally express myself in the music. Plus, my mom’s never been prouder. She always loved my voice. And now I have my own band.”

“Aw, a mama’s boy! I’m sure the ladies love that.”

“Of course, they do.” He laughed. “I may or may not have one girl in particular that loves it.” Sal’s stomach dropped. “But my lips are sealed, Joe! A secret is a secret.”

Both of them laughed.

Sal felt a hand on his back. “Hey.” He turned to see Todd. “You’re going to get through this.”

He shook his head, his blue pigtails swaying. “I just hate hearing him being such a fucker. Makes me want to deck him.”

Todd scoffed. “I can only imagine. But hey. We’ve always had the better interviews. You’re our magical little golden ticket. You’re the reason we made it this far.” He turned to look into the glass. “And the reason he’s made it this far too.”

The DJ was laughing at something Larry had said. “One last thing before you go, Larry. Is it true you’re going to be entering the ScreamFest Battle of the Bands in Los Angeles ?”

“Yes!” He cried. “The rumors are true. Sanity’s Fall is coming and we plan to bring home the gold.”

“Fuck!” Sal yelled. “Seriously?”

Larry couldn’t hear him, but he definitely saw Sal throw his hands up in anger. He stuck out his tongue and flicked him off through the glass.

“That’s only six months away, Larry! What’s the plan?”

“To keep touring. Showing almost every night. Keep going strong.” He said. “We keep up the momentum to honor our fans. Our proud supporters. We love each and every single one so much. We wouldn’t be here without them.”

“How sweet.” The DJ reached across the table to shake hands. “It was great getting to talk to you Larry. I hope you can come visit the studio again soon. Now, while he’s getting ready to go, we’re going to play a few of their newest hits! Here are three of their most recent Top 25s! ‘End of an Era’, ‘Roadblocks’ and ‘Out of This World!” The DJ pushed the button to turn off the mics and turn off the music, and both men in the studio took off their headphones.

Sal could no longer hear what they were saying, but it didn’t matter. It still made him mad.

“Dude. He’s about to come out. Don’t make a scene.” Todd sighed.

As soon as the door opened, Larry made a gun with his fingers and pointed it at Sal. “How’s my favorite bitch?”

“God dammit.” Todd muttered.

“You’re so lucky we’re in a public setting, because I would break your giant bird nose in an instant.” Sal snapped back. “Now can you get out? It’s our turn to do it better.”

“Leave? No, no, no. I want to watch! You got to watch me.” He leaned in. “I want to watch you sweat. The mysterious little teen heartthrob Sally Face. I want to see him in action again. He’s a lot more interesting than you are, Sal. He has guts.”

“Break it up, jackasses.” Ash stepped forward. “Larry, stop trying to start shit.”

Larry winked at Sal before turning to his band and starting to talk with them.

The DJ stepped out of the studio next. “Sally Face! And your Killers! Hello. Welcome! We’ll be on in five. Todd already slid us your three songs for the post-interview jams. I’m really excited to talk with you both. Go ahead and get comfortable in there!”

“Get comfortable, Sal.” Ashley pat his shoulder. “You got this.”

A few minutes passed like a handful of fast seconds, and soon Sal and Todd were stuck behind two mics, staring at the glass, watching Larry loom over the room. His arms were crossed and he looked smug. Ashley, who barely stood up to his chest, was next to him, giving Sal thumbs up and waves. She was trying to get Sal not to look at him. It might have worked any other day. But the anniversary of D-Day was coming up soon and that’s all Sal could feel.

“We have another special treat for you all you hardcore listeners out here in the West. We have the lead guitarist and lead singer-slash-keyboardist of The Sally Face Killers, Sally Face and Todd Morison!” The DJ cried.

Todd leaned in to the mic. “We’re happy to be here, Joe!”

Sal just barely lifted his mask so he could speak into the mic. “Yeah, definitely.”

“So, as you all know, Larry Johnson from Sanity’s Fall was here just a few moments ago. Do you have anything to want to say about that situation currently?”

Before Sal could say a word, Todd grabbed onto his shoulder. “We’re just here to talk about the music. That’s the most important part.”

“Oh, of course! Your most recent concept album really did take the world by storm. The Bologna Incident has been at the top of the heavy metal album charts for nearly three months now. That’s insane. What’s the deal? Tell us about it.”

“Well, Joe, it’s all a product of Sally Face’s mind. I just put the background music to his poetry. He really out-did himself with this.”

“Sally Face, how on earth do you think of such interesting album concepts? A ten-song story about cannibalism, friendship and teenage angst. It’s truly a masterpiece.”

Sal leaned in again. “Thank you, Joe. It was certainly an experience to write. You never know how dark you can get until you try.”

  
“What inspired it?”

Sal thought for a moment. “Oh, you know. Nightmares.” The cryptic answers always did the best. The girls loved it.

That made the DJ laugh. “So, you all officially have three albums out. Out of all three, which is your favorite?”

“Personally?” Sal said. “The Wretched. The most emotional. The Bologna Incident is a pretty story. But the Wretched is my soul. It took me almost a full year just to perfect it.”

Todd nodded. “Yeah, I agree. The Wretched might be my favorite lyrically. But Strange Neighbors is my favorite composition wise. There are specific rifts that I just can’t get over. I’m pretty proud.” He grinned. “Not too bad for a first album, eh?”

The DJ smiled. “Interesting. That’s the one album from you all that included Sally Face’s vocals. And the vocals of Larry Johnson.”

“People leave bands all the time, Joe.” Sal said curtly. His eyes rose above the DJ’s head to make contact with Larry’s through the glass. “It’s not like we miss anyone much. Plus, like you said. Our most recent album was all us. And it’s near-perfect. And our fourth album will be even better.”

“Fourth?” The DJ gasped. “Already in the works? You all work fast.”

“Art never stops.” Sal said. He looked away from Larry, satisfied by the annoyed look on his face. “Just a hint: it’s another concept album. Get ready.”

“Speaking of art.” The DJ hesitated for a second. “Can we talk about something a little sensitive?”

Todd pushed the mic away and covered it. “Joe?” He whispered. “No more Larry questions.”

“It’s about the mask.” He said. “Sally Face. We want to know. It’s been three years now. What is under the mask?”

Sal paused for a second. He noticed Larry’s face go back to smug look in the corner of his vision. He leaned forward. “What’s under the mask?” He paused. “Something brutal. Something gross. Something dark.” He looked up at the glass, trying to only look at Ashley. “I will not show it. Do not ask. I’ve only been fully comfortable showing one person…” His eyes slid to Larry’s involuntarily. “But they ended up being the worst person I’ve ever met. So now no one gets to see.”

Todd chuckled nervously. “Yep. Sally Face is full of dark mystery. It’s what makes him beautiful and down-right irresistible to all the ladies.”

“Ladies do love a prince of darkness.” The DJ nodded. “Well, we’re starting to run out of time. Is there anything you all want to say before we close out?”

“Yes!” Todd grinned. “We are performing in the Battle of the Bands at ScreamFest LA. Until then we have a super intense touring and meet and greet schedule, which you can keep up with on our Twitter and our website. We’re getting ready to try to meet everyone that supports us and there are rumors we’re getting a band paired with us to tour with that has an amazing sound so there’s a lot to look forward to.”

“Ugh, that’s amazing!” the DJ clapped. “Such exciting things happening here. It was an honor to get to speak to you both.”

“It was great to speak to you too, Joe.” Sal said. “Maybe in a year or two, I’ll let you take a peak.”

The DJ just laughed. “Now, here’s three of my favorite Sally Face Killers’ songs. We have ‘Gear Boy’, ‘Dead Space’ and ‘Temporary Relief’.” He clicked the button, and turned off the mics, and reached out to shake their hands. “No hard feelings about the mask question?” He asked. “Manager wanted that one specifically.”

“It’s fine.” Sal said. “I’ve stopped caring.”

“Plus, it’s good PR.” Todd said. “Thanks for having us.”

When Sal left the studio room, Larry was there to meet him. “Did he hit a fucking sore spot, rockstar?”

Ash grabbed his arm. “Larry, I swear to god-“

“What? I’m just asking.” He pulled out of her grip. “I’m going to piss.” He turned to his band. “I’ll meet y’all at the bus.” He gave Sal a subtle look with his eyes before walking away.

Sal looked at Ash, Todd, Chug and Maple. He took a deep breath. “I’m going to pee on the other side of the building. I’ll meet you at the bus too.”

“Don’t you dare go fight him.” Ashley said. “Here, I’ll just go with you-“

“Ashley, please. I just need to pee.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I promise.”

The look in her eyes was obvious. She didn’t believe him, but she also knew there was no choice. She huffed before leading Todd out of the room, closely followed by the other too.

It took about two seconds for Sal to find where the hell Larry went.

“So, what the hell?” Sal busted the door open.

“Happy Tuesday to you too.” Larry rolled his eyes.

“You don’t have to be so nightmarish every time I see you. You can just shut up and let me hate you in peace.” He growled. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me? Fuck you! ‘Worst person you ever met’?” Larry scoffed. “You’re not a fucking saint.”

“You’re the one who fucking left!” Sal started towards him, but Larry was quicker. He grabbed Sal’s shoulder and throat, and slammed him against the wall.

He leaned down, inches from Sal’s lips. “I left. I left, and now I’m a fucking god. And you love every second.” He squeezed Sal’s throat, forcing a moan out of him. He smirked, and then let go. “I have a hotel. Tonight. A whole room alone. I’m not fucking inviting you to stay the night, I’m being a kind, generous, angelic knight in shining armor who wants to know if you want to be fucked face down in a comfortable position.”

“I’m in the mood to fuck your face. To shut you the fuck up.” Sal narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, no.” Larry shook his head. “I’m the worst person you’ve ever met. Remember? So I have to fuck you the way the worst person would.” He pulled a keycard out of his pocket and held it up with two fingers. “This is for you.” He set it on the bathroom counter.

“And what even makes you think that I’ll join you?” Sal walked up until he was in Larry’s face.

Larry leaned down, his eyes flicked down to Sal’s plastic lips. He didn’t respond. He just smiled. “I’ll see you at the venue, rockstar. Bring condoms.”

Larry left the bathroom and Sal looked down at the keycard. He sighed and put it into his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter, done. Very quickly. Sorry.
> 
> Also I promise the smut slows down after chapter like three or four. Because that's when all the fun stuff starts. Like drug abuse, angsty flashbacks, etc. Enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

He waited until after the first song to take his shirt off. He took it off, wiped the sweat off his brow, and then tossed it into the crowd of screaming girls. “Sorry, I just needed to get more comfortable.” He winked. His long brown hair stuck to the sweat on his skin. His tattoos were bold under the lights, and his piercings glimmered under the strobes. He was right. He was a fucking god.

And Sal hated him for it.

“I wonder what Red wants to talk about tomorrow.” Ash tapped her drumsticks on her knees. “I hope the next opening band is cool. And this time I hope our tour schedules don’t match up as much with those guys again.” Her eyes darted to Sal. “It’s bad for our health.”

Sal just sat and tuned his guitar in silence. The green room was gross, dirty. The usual for underground clubs. But the speaker system sounded great. It sounded like they were there in the middle of the crowd, listening to it all go down. But the vents sucked. Everything smelled like salt and grease and vodka.

“I like the hair tonight.” Maple said, putting down her bass. “I think it’s a pretty sick look.”

Ashley had convinced Sal to ditch the pigtails in an attempt to brighten his mood. He always hit slumps when Sanity’s Fall tour dates lined up with theirs. So Ashley spent a whole hour giving Sal a faux-hawk. He had to admit. He felt powerful. He felt like a real rockstar.

“I can see the blogs now.” Todd chuckled. “Speculation galore.” He finished typing into his computer and closed it. “Keyboard is all ready for the premiere of our new intro. Are we finally okay with the name Memories and Dreams before I add it to the online set list for tonight?”

Sal gave a silent thumbs up and Ash followed suit.

Maple lay down on the couch. “How many songs left in Stupidity’s Fall set?”

Todd looked around all the papers on the coffee table. “Uh…like seven. But it’s Larry, and he’s going to do an acoustic version of Baby Blue tonight. Because he just can’t help himself.” He frowned. His eyes went up to look at Sal. “Want to go on a walk?”

Sal shook his head. The hotel keycard felt burning hot in his back pocket.

“Well, I’m napping.” Maple rolled over on the couch. “Wake me up before intermission.”

Ash patted Maple gently on the side before standing up. She stretched her arms into the air. “I don’t know how y’all do it. Sleeping on the bus is damn impossible.”

“I don’t sleep.” Sal deadpanned.

“I don’t sleep by choice.” Todd sat back.

“ _Okay, guys!”_ They could all hear Larry take the mic. “ _It’s time to slow it down a bit. I’m sure you all know the song Baby Blue-“_ Crowd screams. Larry’s laughs. “ _I guess you all like it. Well, I want to break it down. Have a little one-on-one jam sesh with you all. Find someone you love, hold them close. This song is for you all. For anyone who’s ever loved you. For anyone who’s ever ruined your life.”_ He leaned in close to the mic and whispered. “ _Sing this, then tell them to fuck off.”_ The audience roared.

Ash’s neck could have snapped with the speed it turned to look at Sal. Todd took this as a queue to put in headphones and check out. Ash was better at this than him.

“Come on, Sal, let’s get some water-“

“No.” He sat back against the couch and moved the guitar off his lap. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Now it’s just anger that he had the balls to publish it. After all of that.”

“How are you doing? With D-Day coming up.” Ash clambered onto the couch next to him. “Anything you need to talk about.”

“I want to day to go on like it never happened.” Sal said firmly. “And that’s it.”

She nodded. “I understand. Completely. But hey, we have like forty minutes left until we go on. I have an idea if you really want to take your mind off this. It’s kind of extreme, but I think Todd would allow it because it’s great PR after the ScreamFest announcement.”

“Oh, god. What?”

“…Are you willing to go shirtless tonight?”

Sal started smiling under the mask. “What the hell are you going to do to me, Ash?”

Usually, when the band performed, everyone had a set aesthetic. Maple was the moody, goth bass player. Ash was in the back, drumming her heart out in nothing but a bra and shorts. She paid good money for her tattoos, so she demanded to show them off. Todd was weirdly brightly dressed compared to everyone else, but he was playing the dream boy. The soft boy. He had to be a little out of place. Sal, though, was almost always dressed the same. Blue hair, in pigtails. Mask on. Black shirt. Red jeans. Sometimes, if the crowd was getting really into it, Todd and Sal would make a big show of taking off their shirts or fucking up their hair. But most of the time, it was the same.

Tonight was completely different.

Sal had his faux-hawk, and now Sal was shirtless. Ash had taken a Sharpie to his body, and spent all of the time leading up to intermission covering his bare chest and arms with doodles and phrases. A huge skull was in the middle of his chest, and it all branched out from there. If Sal wasn’t so afraid of needles, he would get this tattooed on his body tomorrow.

“You should have gone to art school.” He did a turn, watching himself in the green room mirror. “I’m always amazed.”

“Todd? Final say?” Ash held out her arms to present her masterpiece.

Todd was grinning like an idiot. “I fucking love it. We’re going to play one or two songs first, then I want you to tear off the shirt.”

“Done and done. Just say the word.” Sal gave him a thumbs up just as the green room door busted open.

It was Sanity’s Fall, of course, because nothing could be sacred.

Larry was about to say something sarcastic, everyone could tell, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the blue-haired boy. It looked like he needed a few seconds for his brain to reboot. It made something stir in Sal’s gut. The taller boy just but on a jacket over his bare chest and glared at him.

He looked at Ashley. “I’m going to go take a few bathroom selfies for Twitter. Got to show off your art to the world.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek before exiting the green room and heading through the dark back hall towards the Ladies room.

When he went inside, he whipped out his phone and started to try to pose. He was always bad at this part, but it was worth a shot. He tried raising his arms, moving his hips, even sitting on the counter. But he just couldn’t figure it out. Then it hit him. He took off his mask slowly and set it on the counter, he held his phone out so the mirror had his entire face blocked out. He raised an arm against his head, and took the shot.

He jumped out of his skin when there was a bang on the door.

“Let me in, rockstar.” A voice said outside.

Sal quickly slid the mask back on and went to crack open the door. “I’m not in the mood, jackass.”

Larry pushed the door open and shoved passed him. “Don’t care. Not here for you. Although you would be a sweet dessert.”

Larry fumbled with a small bag of hand-rolled joints from his pocket.

Sal frowned under his mask. “Seriously?”

“It’s a no-smoking venue. And I need to calm down. Hop off my dick.” He grumbled. He picked one, lit the end and took a long drag. When he exhaled, he looked at Sal. A beautiful dragon, blowing smoke in his face. “The other bathroom was taken. Sue me.”

He hesitated for a second, but something angry seemed to overtake him the second that the smoke hit his mask. He pulled the keycard out of his pocket and slammed it on the counter. “Take this back. Give this to some chick. I don’t need it.”

“Aw, what’s wong wittle babu?” Larry put on a baby voice. “Are your feelings hurt?” He took another drag and blew the smoke at Sal again. “My birthday is coming up. You need to be nice to me.”

Sal couldn’t help himself. He stormed forward and took a huge fistful of long, sweaty brunette hair. He yanked with all his force, making Larry fall down to his knees and making him cry out in pain. “Dude, what the hell!”

Sal grabbed Larry’s face and pulled it to look up at him. “We have a twenty minute intermission. I need to be back in fifteen minutes. You know what to do.” He pulled Larry’s hair again, pulling him closer to the crotch of his jeans. “And I’ll take care of this while you’re busy.” He snatched the joint out of Larry’s hand and pushed his mask up with his palm to slide it into his mouth.

Larry looked a little shocked, a little lost, but his lips were already wet from anticipation. He blinked slowly. “What? You aren’t even going to undo your pants or anything? Making me do all the work?”

Sal nodded and spoke around the joint in his lips. “I’m here to enjoy. You’re here to give me your throat.”

That was all the queue that he needed for him to bring his tan fingers to Sal’s growing bulge, fumbling with the zipper and button until he could see boxers. He leaned forward and used his tongue to apply pressure around Sal’s still-clothed erection, which encouraged a smoke-filled moan from him. Larry seemed to be enjoying taking his time, seeing what he could do to Sal through his boxers instead of trying to get any real work done.

He pulled the joint out of his mouth and slammed in on the bathroom counter. “Faster, bitch. We don’t have all night.”

“Hurry the fuck up.” Larry mocked back in a high-pitched voice. “You say that all the damn time. Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”

That was it.

Sal grabbed a fistful of Larry’s hair and pulled. It made him moan, deep from somewhere in his throat. With his other hand, Sal pulled his hard cock out of his boxers and pulled Larry until his entire length was in his mouth. “You took too long.” Sal managed to say before using Larry’s hair like reins. He held Larry still as he thrusted, fucking his mouth and throat like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

Larry’s eyes looked up at him, full of something that Sal couldn’t name but his dick seemed to love. He made tiny gasps and gulps and choking noises, accompanied by deep, vibrating moans of pleasure. It only encouraged him to go faster. “I love it when you sound like a little bitch. I love when you fucking moan around my cock. You call me a slut but you’re my toy. Your throat is my little fucktoy.”

Larry’s eyes rolled back and he moaned deeply. Sal could see him palming himself through his jeans. He could also see the vague stress-tears that come with throatfucking building in Larry’s eyes. That was enough to push him over the edge. He gave one final thrust before pulling out and letting viscous threads of cum fall onto Larry’s cheeks and lips.

Sal had to admit that he looked fucking beautiful like this.

Spit and drool hung from his lips, and small tears finally fell from his large brown eyes. Larry’s face was covered in desperation as he pulled out his own cock and quickly touched himself to completion. Sal just watched, breathing hard, sweat glistening on his bare torso. He stumbled back and slowly did up his jeans. “Clean up your face, you whore.”

Larry zipped himself up and stood on shaking legs. “You get it all out of your fucking system?” His voice was hoarse. His eyes trailed to the bathroom counter. “You broke my joint, you bitch!” He started to rub the cum off his face with a stray paper towel. As soon as he rubbed his face, his nose started to bleed. He covered it with a panicked hand. “Fuck! You went too fucking hard!”

Sal just shrugged and opened the bathroom door. “See you in six fucking months.”

“Six months? Not so fast.” Larry said. “We have a meeting with Red tomorrow too. With you all. So see you in like twelve hours, you bastard. Get ready to be replaced.”

Sal paused in the doorway for a second. He didn’t say a word before leaving.

He met up with the others in the green room and grabbed his guitar. “Let’s play the best show of our lives. Okay? No matter what happens tomorrow or in six months or a year, _we_ are the Sally Face Killers. And we are going to be the best fucking thing to ever happen to heavy metal. Even if only for tonight.”

“Where is this coming from?” Maple raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

Todd stood up. “Your feelings are usually correct, so I’m not going to argue. Let’s make this the defining show for us. Let’s go.”

Sal smiled under his mask. “Let’s fucking rock.”

True to their word, they played the best show they possibly could that night. Todd and Sal were half-naked by the second song. Ash nearly broke one of her drumsticks because of how passionately she was playing. Maple ended up throwing some guitar picks into the audience as little collector’s items, and actually smiled for once. And Sal had the most fun he’d had in weeks. Knee-slides across the stage, wrestling with Todd during banter-breaks. The whole nine yards. The audience ate them up.

Sal felt the safest he had in a long, long time. This was a perfect reminder of why this all started in the first place. Why he didn’t go to college. Why he practiced every single day, even now. Why he was still able to keep going after the love of his life abandoned him. Because of the music.

No matter what happened, he had the music.

And it was beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try really hard to post a chapter a day but PLEASE forgive me if I miss, especially during this winter! I'm going on vacation and starting school up again in January. But I'm going to try my hardest! I already have all the way through chapter seven drafted so hopefully I can keep it up.


	4. Chapter 4

Both bands rolled up to Red-Eyed Demon Records HQ at the same time. A bright red tour bus and a brown tour bus parked next to each other, both reflecting the early afternoon sun. Both bands that clambered out of the buses looked like freshly steamrolled roadkill. Larry had his hair in a messy bun, fresh coffee in his hands, pajamas still on. His band looked similar. Sal and his group looked no different, with smeared mascara and sweaty clothes and greasy hair. Everyone looked like they dug out of a grave, went to a frat party, and then decided to just show up.

Even though there was a tension between them all walking in, there was an understood peace treaty: It was too early to be fighting. And they all wanted a shower as soon as possible.

The elevator up to the top floor was cramped. The entire thing smelled like B.O..

“You guys did great last night.” The Sanity’s Fall drummer leaned into Maple and said quietly. Even just his soft voice banged on the heads of the hungover group.

“Shut it, Neil.” Larry sniffled. He took a swig of his coffee and started at his own reflection in the elevator doors. “My head is killing me.”

“I have Advil.” Maple shook her purse at her side.

“Pass that shit around.” The secondary guitarist held his hand out.

Sal’s eyes moved from his own reflection in the elevator doors to Larry’s. There was a huge knot in his stomach, something heavy and sinking and life-ruining. What if Sanity’s Fall was really going to start replacing Sally Face Killers? God, just the idea made him want to vomit. If a small band with one album and two EPs replaced a band with two EPs and three albums then Sal would certainly have to just jump off a bridge and end it.

When the Advil made it to Larry, he took a whole handful and chased it with coffee.

“Jesus.” Sal blurted out without thinking. “Your liver hates you.”

He just shrugged and handed Sal the Advil. “A lot of things hate me.”

The doors opened and both groups fell on top of each other to get out and open the large glass doors to Red Endless’ office.

He was sitting at his desk, smoking a cigar in a gross fancy suit. “How are my two favorite money makers!” He clapped. “Sally Face, Larry, I want you here in the front.” He pointed to the two seats in front of his desk. “Everyone else, stand. We have some important things to discuss.”

“If I stand for too long, I will definitely pass out.” One of the Sanity’s Fall boys muttered.

Sal and Larry both sat down, subconsciously shooting away from each other. Red Endless looked over both of them with dark, bloodshot, Monopoly Man eyes. He was the man that ruled the entire lives of every single person in that room. He held their pay and their contracts over their heads, but he seemed to love them. He seemed to enjoy them both.

“So, boys. Let me both start by saying that the last few weeks have been some of the best in our entire company’s history. You both have something very, very special. And now with ScreamFest coming, I only expect those numbers to go up. Both of you are pretty neck-and-neck in sales, in publicity, in public interest. So.” He sat up straighter. “We’re going to be making a very drastic change that will benefit both of you more than you can possibly imagine. You two are going to tour together.”

Both Larry and Sal let out bellowing screams. “What?!”

“Oh my fucking god!” Ash put his head in her hands.

“No fucking thanks!” Sal scoffed. “We decline.”

“There is no debate. No choice. You all will be starting in New York and touring the country all the way to LA over the next six months. It’ll end at ScreamFest. You all will alternate who opens, you all will share the spotlight, and Larry here.” Red pointed with his cigar. “Larry will be performing a minimum of two songs a night with the Sally Face Killers.”

“No!” Larry and Sal yelled.

“Why?” Sal cried.

“Strange Neighbors is what started both of your careers. People keep asking about it. ‘Basement’ is back on a regular radio circulation, you know. And there are no live videos of it anywhere online in the last two years that we can make money from. So you will sing a minimum of two songs from that album together at every. Single. Show.”

“I’m going to end up hanging myself in a bus bathroom.” Sal muttered turning to look at Todd with pleading eyes. “This can’t be real.”

“The first show is July 7th.” Red slammed a folder of papers onto the desk. Sal’s blood ran cold. He felt Ashley’s had on his shoulder. “We’re making a big deal of it being Larry’s birthday, and it’s in this little club just outside of Manhattan. It’s a hell of a drive and you all only have a few days to get there, so you all better hop on your buses and get going. Larry, start practicing with them too. Don’t want to sound rusty.”

“No offense.” Ash’s grip tightened on Sal’s shoulder. “But what are we going to do about the whole ‘extremely public rivalry’ thing? All the sudden we’re supposed to be perform together like it’s fucking fine?”

“You all are coming together for the fans and the music. Now, the rivalry can just be more sexy. I want you all sitting together in every interview. Doing all of it together. You all enemies, coming together with a love for the fans. And that’s the story. And if you step out of line with that story, ScreamFest is going to be hell for you both. Keep the rivalry, because it keeps you in the papers. Hell, if it’s an issue we can hire a girl to date one of you and make it a whole love-triangle storyline. Just have something to fight about. But work together smoothly or someone’s pay is getting cut. And it won’t be mine.”

Larry just silently nodded. “Okay. Whatever. Sure.”

Sal shot Larry a look of disgust.

“You’re heading out at five. You all have full access to three different hotel rooms at the Hyatt across the street so you all can shower before you all go. Do whatever you need to do, just don’t be late.”

Do whatever you need to do.

Okay.

The second that everyone was out of the building, on the sidewalk, about to walk over to the hotel, Sal turned around and decked Larry right in the face with all his strength.

“Sal!” Ash screamed.

Larry stumbled back, holding his head. “What the fuck?!”

“You knew this the whole time, didn’t you?” Sal shouted.

“What?!”

“That’s why you were being all cryptic last night! You knew!”

“Trust me, fucker, if I have known this was going to happen then I would have been much higher right now.” He stood up and shook his head. One of his nostrils was bleeding, and one of his eyes was red. “You think I want this any more than you? You’re not the one having to fucking sing for the losers you left.”

That’s when Ash stepped forward and pushed Larry. He struck a nerve. “You’re not the one that has to perform with the asshole that left you in the middle of the night before the fucking engagement party you were throwing _for him!”_ Something about Ashley suddenly getting involved shut up both Larry and Sal. They both stood completely still, embarrassed and vaguely terrified.

Todd grabbed Ashley and Maple grabbed Sal, and started to pull both away. “Come on!” Maple said. “We’re going to shower. Come on.”

Ashley was getting scrappy, and even though she was following Todd’s lead she was still pointing at Larry and yelling. “If you get anywhere near him during all this, I’ll cut your fucking dick off! I’m not kidding! I’ll cut your dick off, Larry Johnson! Stay the fuck away from Sal!”

Stay the fuck away from Sal.

Sal couldn’t help but tear up.

Famous last words.

Stay the fuck away from Sal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kind feedback! It means so much to me. 
> 
> Writing angst and having angst fit out there is so important. Its a great way for people to process their issues. Reading about other people's pain can help you with yours. And a ship that you genuinely love and appreciate is a great way is such a safe place to explore emotion in all different forms. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this and getting all those angst good feelings, it makes me so happy!


	5. Chapter 5

“Nope!” Ashley stood in the middle aisle, blocking Larry’s way to the back. “Why are you on this fucking bus?”

Larry rolled his eyes. One was bruised. He had a duffle bag over his shoulder and a guitar in his hand. “Look. Red wants me to sleep on this bus until we get to New York. So we can practice?” He shifted his weight in his feet. “We don’t want to play together. But at least can we try to play together well.”

“We don’t want that.”

“Our buses are going to get separated. It makes sense we do this.” Larry sighed. “Look. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of this fucking bullshit. But I just want to survive it, get my paycheck and go home for the holidays with a fucking trophy.”

Sal, who was standing far behind Ash, was watching this go down. His stomach was flipping. He had a million and one thoughts in his head and none of them were coherent. He managed to barely form a sentence. “Ash, I don’t feel good.” He was going to vomit.

She turned around, and sad green eyes met watery blue. “Come on, dude. Let’s get you taken care of.” She pointed at Larry. “You don’t get the spare bed. You get the seats. And you don’t talk to Sal without going to me first.” She grabbed Sal’s shoulders and moved him towards the bathroom. “Come on.”

She locked them both into the tiny stall, and without any hesitated Sal leaned over the toilet and threw up. Ash just held his hair and rubbed his back until he was done.

 “I don’t want to do this, Ash. I can’t perform with him. I don’t want to sing with him.” Sal was shaking like a leaf. “Ash, I can’t do it. On fucking D-Day, I can’t do it.”

“I know, baby. I know.” She hugged him tightly, rocking him side to side. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be super okay. You have me, and Todd and Maple and Chug. Just say the word and Chug will literally run that douchebag over. You know I’m not joking.” That made Sal laugh. “We’re going to get through it. I will be here for you every single step of the way.”

 “I have to sing with him on his birthday.” Sal whispered. His lip started to quiver. “His birthday. His birthday. Our fucking…I don’t want to see him. Not for this long. A night or two, sure. A few times every few weeks? Fine. But Jesus, for this long? He doesn’t even act like we were ever-“

“Don’t think about that. I’ll be here for you. But you have to promise me you’ll be smart during all of this too, okay?” She held up her pinky.

Sal curled his pinky around hers. “Okay.”

When Sal stopped shaking and they left the cramped bathroom, they were greeted to Larry sitting alone on one of the bus seats against the window, strumming quietly on his acoustic guitar. His hair was up in a bun, with stray hairs blowing in the air conditioning of the bus.

“Okay!” Chug called over his shoulder. “Next overnight stop is Santa Fe!”

 Maple plopped down in the passenger seat next to Chug. “No fast food stops until the state line though so for the next five hours, don’t be cunts.”

Ash hesitated before sitting in a seat across from Larry. “What did your guys think? About all this?”

“They think Sal aims well.” Larry looked at her while keeping his head down over his guitar. “They think this will give me inspiration to finally finish mixing the second album. Or at least the half that’s mine. But they’re chill. They aren’t like you all. They aren’t going to scream about castrating me while being carried across the street.”

Ash narrowed her eyes. “I had reason and you know it.”

“Sal is an adult. A very strong adult, I might add.” He pointed at his bruise on his eye. “He can handle himself.” He turned to look at Sal. “Right?”

“I will gladly punch you again at any time.” He deadpanned. “I’m going to nap.”

 Larry raised an eyebrow. “Want me to join?”

 “Not the time.” Ash hissed. “You don’t go near the beds.”

 “Unless I’m invited.” Larry said.

 “One more word and I’ll be the one to punch you.” She said.

 A five hour ride with Larry in the same bus went by in a way that was both relieving and disappointing. It was uneventful. It was peaceful. The only thing that really happened was that Larry was practicing his guitar, and he was small-talking with Maple about her bass riffs. It was weird, seeing Larry and Ash sitting in the same space for so long without cracking a single joke. Sal sometimes forgot that Larry leaving had affected everyone, not just him. There was a friendship there that wasn’t going to be fixed any time soon.

 When they finally stopped on the state line, it was only going to be for a few quick hours while Chug took a nap in the spare bed. Ashley and Maple left the bus to grab Taco Bell, but not before Ashley pet Sal’s hair and woke him up enough to tell him that she would be back in a bit.

 Larry hid in the bathroom during the whole stop, and managed to come out hyper and ready to keep writing and playing. Ash would watch him like a hawk, and only leave the bus when Sal was asleep or at least far enough away from Larry for her to feel okay. And Sal just tried to get through it without his chest exploding from the pain.

 That basically was the cycle of the entire trip.  

Larry was pretty excited and antsy, but besides that it was normal. Maybe even quieter than usual. When you don’t see someone for weeks at a time, it’s easier to have the anger and the passion and the ability to fight. But a forty hour drive? It was a silent avoidance. It was quiet resentment. And it was painful anticipation.

When they reached day two, somewhere in Oklahoma, they finally started practicing together. Sal didn’t expect singing with Larry again to be as goddamn heartbreaking as it was. He could barely get through a full song without a break. That’s when they had their most fights, and that’s when they had the most private sessions while everyone else stopped to get food. Sal discovered that riding cock was surprisingly hard in such a tiny bathroom.

 “I have to admit, I missed your voice.” Larry said offhandedly one day.

 Sal just turned away. “I didn’t miss yours. Todd’s is better.”

 Larry leaned in close. “We all know what I can do better than Todd.” He whispered right into his ear.

 That’s all it took to get Sal headfirst into a bunk while Larry desperately fucked him from behind when everyone was gone.

That’s all it ever took.

Sal would take whatever he could get. He was too raw, too emotional. Having to deal with all of this the week of D-Day was not what he wanted. But it’s what he had. And it was causing issues. He had started to miss him again, which was even worse than just a dull pain of resentment. Having Larry tangible for a long period of time again was going to kill him.

But it was on the fourth day, right before they pulled into Manhattan, when Larry’s bag spilled onto the floor. And it brought back the raw anger Sal had been needing to survive.

“You kept my _fucking_ diary?” Sal slammed the notebook into Larry’s head. “You took my _fucking diary?”_

Larry didn’t respond. He just sniffled and turned away.

“No. No. You don’t get to be quiet now. You took my diary with you?” Sal pushed his shoulder.

“You didn’t even realize it was gone.” He grumbled.

“Oh, I didn’t?!” Sal grabbed the front of Larry’s shirt and dragged him up off the seat. “A lot of things were gone, Larry. And I missed _all_ of them!”

Larry looked over Sal’s shoulder at Ash. “Call off your fucking dog before I break his neck.”

Ashley just shook her head. “This is fucked, Larry, and you know it.”

Maple just kept Chug focused on the road. And Todd just tried to get some work done while keeping his eyes low. But this was worse than any of the previous fights during the trip. This was a full-on nightmare.

The brunette rolled his eyes and picked up Sal by the waist, carelessly tossing him on top of one of the cramped bunks. “It’s been two years, just get over it. It’s not my fault you wrote such embarrassing shit down. I like to read it to my friends and laugh at your gay-ass emotions.”

 Something broke in Sal.

“You are a fucking monster!” He screamed. “I’m glad you fucking left. Marrying you would have been the worst thing I could have ever done to myself!”

“Oh, yeah? It wouldn’t have been a cakewalk for me either. You’re a brat.” Larry growled. “You’re whiny, selfish brat.”

“Marrying you would have ruined my life.”

“And staying with you would have made me eat a bullet.”

“I fucking hate you, Larry Johnson, and I hope that after this stupid fucking tour you have to go home to your mom and have her see you for what you really are-“

Larry slapped him across the face and knocked his prosthetic off. “Don’t fucking talk about my mom!”

“Larry, don’t you fucking hit him!” Ash screamed.

It only took a second for Sal to adjust. He was so high on adrenaline that he barely felt it. He barely even noticed his prosthetic was gone. He turned to the other with hate in his eye, boiling over into angry tears. “Lisa used to fucking adore me, Larry. You remember that, right?” Sal crawled out of the bed and started at him. “Your mom fucking loved me! She would have loved our wedding. She was destroyed when you left! You treated all of us like shit!”

Larry started to back up, his eyes wide and his pupils blown out. “Shut up!”

Ashley started to step forward. “Sal, this is getting out of hand-“

“He left me but he kept my fucking diary! He just fucking _hit me!_ ”

"You hit me first! Literally a few hours ago!" Larry cried.

"Both of you, shut it!" Ash turned to Sal. “I’m just as angry as you are! He left me too.” She shouted. “But nothing good is going to come from giving him a second black eye! Think about the band, Sal. Red will pull the plug at any chance he gets.”

Sal glared up at Larry. He considered punching him, choking him, anything. He kept his fucking diary. For two years.

Larry just shook his head. “I got what I wanted from the diary anyway. Let’s just fucking perform tonight and get through the bullshit. Then I can go to my own bed, where I can sit and think about how I’m going to fucking end your career.”

“You already ruined my life.” Sal smiled, hatred flowing in his laugh. “You aren’t going to take this away from me, too. This band is too important. I am going to be polite. I am going to be boring. I am going to survive around you. But the second you try to get any closer than I allow? You’re getting a pocket knife in your fucking throat.”

 “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“It’s one better, Larry. It’s a fucking vow.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pinky promise that the next chapter has a flashback to explain stuff. There's just a lot of build up before anything positive can happen.
> 
> Also because this story is getting more attention than I could have ever expected, I wanted to shout of some of my favorite Sally Face cosplayers from TikTok and Instagram because they totally deserve it. Cosplay is such a wild amazing art form and there isn't enough of it for Sally Face so I cherish it like my own baby. This is no particular order other than what popped up first when going through my phone!
> 
> -ferluci_cosplay (Instagram)  
> -kbtw (TikTok)  
> -savechilton (TikTok)  
> -stellalasaurus (TikTok)  
> -devil.baby.cos and nequokitty (Instagram and TikTok)
> 
> Big props to them, they help fuel my inspo.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been the week before Larry Johnson’s twenty third birthday when he proposed to Sal Fisher.

They had just dropped the first full album with Red-Eyed Demon Records, and Strange Neighbors was already a hit. Their EP was still high on the charts, too, even after seven months. They were going to properly tour soon, it was all but confirmed, and the two boys felt like they were kings of the universe. They were preforming regularly at local clubs in the surrounding cities. They had already started songs for their second album. Sal and Larry both felt nothing but pure excitement, that jittery feeling in your gut where you just can’t stop hyperfixating on that one thing. And that thing was each other, their music, and their future.

So Larry proposed.

After almost five years of dating, he thought it was appropriate.

He did it with no ring, no plan, no anything. He was just sitting there, strumming his guitar, when he suddenly sat up and grabbed Sal’s hand and couldn’t hold himself back. “Marry me.” Larry had said. “Marry me at the end of our first real tour together. Promise?”

“Larry, what are you saying?”

“I’m proposing. I’m not good at it, but I am. You are…my everything. I can barely remember life before you and I don’t want to imagine a life after you. Every feeling I’ve ever felt is overwhelmed by you. I literally have cried because I’m so full of love for you that it physically hurts me.” He had been grinning like an idiot. “I already see you every day. But now I want to make sure you are a part of every second, every moment. You are the air I breathe and the water I drink and the very blood in my fucking veins. Marry me, Baby Blue. Be my fucking rockstar.”

Sal couldn’t have helped himself from crying if he tried. “Fuck yes!” He jumped into Larry’s arms.

Sal tried desperately to keep it a secret but he just couldn’t help himself from running to Ashley’s in the middle of the night and jumping at her screaming, “ _He fucking proposed!”_

The entire next week, Ash and Sal worked in secret. They planned a surprise party at Todd and Sal’s house, right on Larry’s birthday, and that’s when Sal would surprise him with a ring. A perfect, simple silver band. It was cheap, but it was something. Something easy to tour with. And he knew Larry would love it. They were going to take the world on, together, two kids with perfectly matched voices and amazing talent and the drive to get anywhere.

But Larry didn’t show up at the party.

Sal had told him to come at seven. Everyone was there. But Larry never showed up.

He waited. And waited. And called him, to no answer. And text him, only for the messages to not even be delivered. He waited until the last person left in the early hours of the morning. He would have waited forever.

 At first, Sal was worried. Maybe Larry was hurt. Or worse. Who knows. But he went to Larry and Lisa’s apartment to try to check on him, and his room was completely empty. Stripped of posters and belongings and clothes and blankets. It was as if only a ghost had ever lived here.

The next morning, Todd received a letter from Red-Eyed Demon Records explaining that Larry had resigned from The Sally Face Killers and left their hometown of Nockfell for good.

The amount of screaming and crying Sal did on the floor of Todd’s bedroom that week is just embarrassing to think of now.

It got worse when Sanity’s Fall released a five song EP within the next two weeks, and Larry did a slam interview announcing how much he deeply, burningly hated Sally Face.

Now, two years after the party that never was, they stood together about to go on stage on Larry’s twenty-fifth birthday.

On D-Day.

Sal was going to vomit again.

“Which songs did you choose for tonight?” Larry asked. He was in ripped jeans and a leather jacket, shirtless and showing off his chest tattoos and nipple piercings. He had always been more muscular than Sal. It used to make him happy, now it just makes him jealous.

“’Basement’ and ‘Glitter Pony’.” The blue-haired boy looked down at his shoes. His fists were shaking. “Keeping it simple.”

He nodded in approval. “I can get through those.”

“Todd will call your queue at the end of ‘Temporary Relief’.” Sal turned to look up at him. “Don’t fuck up.”

_“Now let’s welcome to the stage the one, the only, the Sally Face Killers!”_

The first notes of ‘Memories and Dreams’ started to play.

“Break a leg, Sal. Literally.”

“Kill yourself, Larry Johnson.”

He winked back. “Maybe one day.”

The show went as well as it could. As well as they could have hoped. Sal was terrified to sing in front of a crowd for the first time in a long time, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that Larry wasn’t just a dark thought in his head. He was a looming figure, sitting there, watching him up close.

“This has been literal hell. It’s so hot in here.” Sal found himself speaking into a mic. “I think the pigtails are too much, yeah?” Todd came up behind him and ripped out the hairbands, making his blue hair fall around his face. “Much better, baby, thank you!”

“Of course. Anything for you.” He winked at him. “Now, we have a special surprise for everyone in the audience. We have three more songs for you all tonight!”

“Three?” Sal frowned.

“Uh, three?” Larry walked on with a mic in hand. “I only prepared two, Todd, so you have some explaining to do!”

The audience screamed so loud and for so long that it made Todd burst out laughing. “It sounds like you have some lovers out here, Larry!”

“What are you even doing here?” Sal turned his guitar so it sat on his back. He had to keep up the ‘fight-on-sight’ appearance, even if it was half-assed.

“It’s my birthday, Sally Face, you have to be nice to me.” Larry winked.

“Speaking of birthday…” Todd pointed off stage and some poor little tech-hand tiptoed on stage with a cake. “Surprise! Everyone, let’s all sing a song together. The third song you weren’t ready for.” He grinned. “One, two, three! Happy birthday to you!”

The crowd joined in. “Happy birthday to you!”

Sal refused to sing. Ashley got up from the drum set and started sneaking up behind Larry. She winked at Sal as the song started coming to an end.

“Happy birthday, dear Larry! Happy birthday to you!”

As soon as the song ended, and Larry had blown out the candles, Ash slammed onto his back like a monkey and slammed his face into the cake. The entire concert hall erupted in laughter.

 “Fair, fair! You got me!” Larry was laughing too. His face was covered in icing. He turned to Sal. “Come on, baby. Want to try some sugar?”

“Come near me and I’m going to totally shank you with my pick.”

“Who wants to lick frosting off of Larry’s face?” Ash grabbed the mic out of Todd’s hands and yelled into the crowd. “Come on, there’s got to be someone here who’ll be into it!”

 Sal walked towards Todd and leaned in close. “Is any of this a part of the plan?” He whispered away from the mics.

 “Uh, kind of? We were just told to make this into a whole thing. Being a Twitter moment is the goal. Let’s just roll with it. They love it.”

Ash pulled some short, blonde college girl on stage. “Come on, angel! Let’s make his birthday special. Larry, get down. On your knees! Make it easy for her to reach!”

Sal grabbed his mic again. “I don’t want to watch this.”

“Are you jealous?” Larry asked as he got down in front of the girl. “Hi, Larry Johnson. Pleasure to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for her to shake. “What’s your name?”

“K-Kary!” She stuttered nervously. “I, uh…I’m a huge fucking fan!”

“Well, Kary, I am so honored that I get to spend my birthday with you.” Larry smiled at her under the icing. That charming bastard.            “Dive in, sweetheart!”

 The audience screamed as she licked up the side of one of his cheeks.

 Sal couldn’t help but laugh.

 This was a mess.

After the shenanigans where over, it was time to sing. Larry and Sal, singing together on stage. For the first time in forever. Sal remembered when Larry used to hold his hand before the local shows and whisper in his ear. “I love you to the moon and back.” He used to say it every night. “I’m here. Look at me, not at them. Me.”

And so Sal did.

During both songs, Sal and Larry were in each other’s faces. They were screaming at each other, only separated by two mics and a guitar. No one knew what clicked, but the second that the first note of ‘Basement’ was hit by Ashley, it was over. It was impossible to separate them. The audience was eating up every little second.

Larry still had frosting on his face. Sal took off his shirt and wiped it off with it. Larry bent down and effortless lifted Sal onto his shoulders, just like he used to. He let Sal play his solo from that amazing view, ten feet tall and untouchable. There was an energy between them they hadn’t felt in years. In the span of those two songs, in the span of seven minutes, they were teenagers again. They were young, playing their first show in a city just outside of Nockfell.

They were back.

And it all died as soon as the second song was over and they were off stage during intermission, sharing a green room with Sanity’s Fall twenty minutes before they went on. And Sal watched Larry snort two lines of coke. And Sal remembered where they were.

“Larry, what the fuck?” He couldn’t help but sound upset as he watched Larry clean the table with his face.

“Back off, Michael Myers.” Travis, the secondary guitarist flicked him off. “Not all of us have the free fucking will you all do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Drop it, Travis.” Larry said firmly. He used his ring finger to rub coke on his gums inside of his mouth. He turned around to Sal, making eye contact with him as a shiver ran over his body. Sal could almost watch his pupils dilate. “It makes me a better performer.” He clambered back up to his feet and swayed for a second. He smirked. “What are you going to do? Cry about it?

 Sal faltered for a second. “You promised.”

 He blinked, as if suddenly remembering something long gone. His face fell blank again. “I promised a lot of fucking things.” He rubbed his face. “All the promises I ever make are bullshit. You of all people should know that.”

Todd was in a deep discussion with the drummer of Sanity’s Fall, Neil. He wasn’t paying attention to what was happening. But Ash? Ash watched. And Ash just looked indifferent. “I’m not even surprised.” She sighed. “Why would I be?”

Sal looked down at his feet. “Just don’t die from that shit. That would be pretty fucking embarrassing for you.” His stomach was churning.

 Larry chuckled. “Can’t be more embarrassing then anything I’ve done so far. I can’t wait to die young, nose full of blow and a pocket full of fucking cash.”

Travis leaned down to short a line. “The American fucking Dream.”

“The American fucking Dream.” Sal echoed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will 100% happy ending. But slow burn is in the tags for a reason. I’ve drafted through chapter 12-ish and theres still no solid joy in sight so be patient and forgiving!
> 
> Also apologies for not responding to comments directly! I have some pretty severe anxiety (especially when it comes to writing) so I’m bad at responding to messages/comments/etc directly! But thank you so much for all your support and nice words, it means so much!


	7. Chapter 7

“Hey.” Larry appeared out of nowhere behind Sal, making himself comfortable sitting on the cement fence next to him. “I’m going to sit here. Need to smoke. Hope you don’t mind.”

Sal looked around the empty parking lot behind the hotel. “You couldn’t sit…anywhere else?”

“Don’t want to.”

Summers with Larry used to be Sal’s favorite thing in the universe. The swimming, the bonfires, the camping. Ash and Todd were there, of course, but it was Larry that shone the brightest in the summer sun. His tan skin, shining with sweat as they all drove in Ashley’s old truck to the lake to swim. His hair, tied up in a ponytail, blowing in the breeze as he played his guitar for the local Boy Scout troop at their charity cook-out. His eyes, glittering with stars in the treehouse while him and Sal laid with pressed forheads, spilling all their secrets.

Now, summer was hellish. Too hot, too gross, too painful to remember. Winter wasn’t easy, spring and fall were rough, but summer was a waking nightmare to end all nightmares.

“I will literally pay you to move twenty feet to the left.”

“Ten bucks a foot.” Larry pulled out his phone and unlocked it. “Check this out.” He held it out to Sal. On the screen was a picture for the damn ages. Sal was holding his guitar over his head, screaming lyrics to the sky. His hair was whipping about his face, and he was perched ever-so perilously onto Larry’s shoulders. Larry looking like he was singing so loudly his throat would burst. The lights framed them perfectly, green and blue and red. It was easily the best picture ever taken of either of them. They were immortal, they were eternal, they were ethereal. It made Sal’s heart skip a beat.

“Posted on Instagram like five hours ago. And it’s already gone everywhere. Blogs, Twitter, a fucking radio station did a whole segment about it. It’s my phone background now.” Larry was grinning ear to ear under the hood of his red sweatshirt. He took a drag from his cigarette and raised his eyebrows at Sal. “I don’t remember your number but I can totally DM it to you.”

 “Why the hell is it your phone background now?” Sal frowned. “Why would you want to look at someone you hate literally every single day, all the time?”

Larry sighed. “Because, Sal. A lot of things have changed, but this?” He held up the picture again. “This was our dream. This is everything we wanted from day one. It was _my_ fucking dream. And yeah, you suck. And yeah, I suck. But this goes beyond that. So I’m going to fucking enjoy it.”

“Fair enough.”

“We look too chummy though now.” He said. “So we need something to solidify that we hate each other still. I was thinking a Twitter fight. We can help each other with the best insults.”

Sal closed his notebook and stood up. “Excuse me? What the fuck?”

He blinked. “What?”

“A planned Twitter fight?” The blue-haired boy just looked confused. “That’s not…how this works.”

“Look, okay.” Larry leaned back to lay down where Sal had been sitting. “We have to work together for every single day for six months. So we need to do this smart. Like that diary shit? Not smart. We need to get our shit together. Otherwise we’ll actually kill each other. Or worse, get fired. So planning this shit? Organizing it? Prepping us for it? It’s the safest option to make sure we have that perfect inbetween of comradery and passionate, sexy hatred.” He blew smoke up towards the sky. “We have to be nice to each other, rockstar. It’s the only way we can get through this. Because I was nearly positive you would have ripped my throat out with your fake teeth if Ash didn’t stop you.”

“’Nice’ is a strong word. But…” Sal sighed. “You’re right. We have to do this smart. But if we’re doing it smart, I have a rule.”

“Give it to me.”

“No sex. At all.”

Larry froze. “Oh. Okay.”

“Every few weeks, seeing you accidentally? I can handle it. But daily? I can’t. I don’t want to see your face after we _do stuff._ I don’t want to be near you after we _do stuff._ I just can’t handle it, dude. It hits too close.” Sal looked away and fiddled with one of his pigtails. “You understand.”

“Yeah. I totally do. I mean, maybe that was a given after the last fight. But it's good you clarified.” There was a second of silence before Larry sat up. “Sal, I need to tell you-“

“OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.”

 The scream came from nowhere, and both boys frantically started looking around. That’s when they spotted the worst thing Sal could have imagined: A crowd of rabid fangirls.

 “Shit!” Sal started backing up.

“I told you this was their hotel!” One of the girls screamed.

 “Why are you so freaked out? It’s just fans.” Larry looked confused.

“Todd has a rule. More than ten is a safety hazard. And I’ve been chased enough times to know that’s true. Remember my sprained ankle at the Nashville New Year’s show?

"Yeah?"

"Yeah.”

“Well, shit! What do we do?” Larry was standing now, throwing his cigarette onto the ground but not bothering to stamp it out.

 “Run!” Sal turned around and started took book it.

 “Wait up, asshole!”

That’s how Larry and Sal ended up sprinting the entirety of the backlot of a Hyatt in Philadelphia while a crowd of thirty to forty girls followed close behind.

“This is so fucked!” Larry was running a little ahead of Sal, that long-legged bastard, but Sal was the one who knew where he was going. Sal was the one with the experience when it came to running from rabid fangirls and paparazzi. “Where the fuck do we go?”

“I’m tempted to leave you out here!” Sal wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t mean enough to do that to anyone. Fangirls were insane, and that’s where he drew the line. “Come on!” Sal turned a corner and made a break for a white equipment van.

The universe seemed to like them that day, as the van was empty and unlocked. Both boys dived in the back, closed it and locked it. They waited for a few moments with bated breath. As if they were in a cartoon, the girls all ran past the van.

 “Jesus fucking hell-christ.” Larry fell back onto the floor of the van in relief. “You’ve done this before? What the fuck?”

 “It’s how I stay so fit on the road.” Sal chuckled. “Trust me, this went easy. It’s been worse.”

 “I hate that!” Larry ran his fingers through his hair.

Sal unbuckled the bottom-half of his mask to let some cool air in. “Running never gets easier.”

“I bet.” The taller boy stretched out on the floor. “You know when you were screaming at me the other day?” Larry pointed at Sal’s face. “You weren’t wearing your eye. Did you-“

“Give it up? Yeah. No one sees it anyway. And if someone notices during a meet and greet, they don’t say it.”

“How did yesterday’s meet go, by the way?”

“Fine enough. Lots of questions about you, which was super annoying. Some girl tried to kiss Todd and it really threw him off his game.” Sal paused for a second. “Larry…What’s with the blow, dude?”

Those words made the van go silent.

Larry clambered up to a sitting position. “Heroin made me sick for weeks. So that was a bust. And weed is great for making me sleep. But I need something to keep me awake, too.” He shrugged. He refused to look Sal in the face. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried it yet. I mean…I happy you haven’t. But surprised I guess.”

“I mean, I’m back on my Lexapro. I think I would die if I mixed that with too much.”

There was an awkward silence before Larry spoke again. “Sal, I…” He hesitated. “I’m sorry about the diary. It was dumb. And stupid. And…I promise I didn’t actually read it out to anyone else. I was just saying that. To make you mad.”

“Then why did you keep it?”

He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I never read it. I never did anything with it. I think I just…needed it. I don’t know, it’s stupid.” He turned his head away to hide behind his hair, as if he was back in high school again.

Sal was tempted to crawl over and comfort him. But he just couldn’t bring himself to. “I know I can’t tell you to stop. With the drugs and shit. But like, be careful? I guess? I want to tell you to stop.”

“I’m not, like, an addict or anything. I’m fine.”

“…if you have to snort cocaine daily to survive then you are an addict.”

“I’m _not_ an addict!” Larry slammed his fist on the floor. “Fuck off. You don’t understand.” He was pouting like a child.

“Whatever.” Sal rolled his eyes. “OD for all I care, I don’t give a shit anyway.” That was a lie. “I just want to survive this fucking tour.”

“If either of us live to see New Years Eve, it will be a miracle.”

“What are you doing?” Larry asked. “After ScreamFest?”

“What do you mean? Like, after the event?”

Larry chuckled. “No, idiot. Like after this tour. Sanity’s Fall has a two month break after it. First break in two damn years. Do you have the same thing?”

“Yeah. We have a break. Win or lose, I’m going to buy a house somewhere. Or an apartment. I, uh…haven’t been back to Nockfell. I can’t go back. I always rent an extended stay in Phoenix during tour breaks. But I think I’m going to get a proper place to live. Somewhere fun.” Sal leaned forward and propped his head on his hands. “I’m trying to talk Ash into moving in with me. But she loves staying in Nockfell with her family. So if she doesn’t move in, that just means I get to decorate a whole place on my own.”

“That sounds nice, rockstar. That sounds real nice.” Larry nodded. He sat there silent for a moment. He looked like he was weighing endless options in his eyes. He suddenly scooted towards the back doors of the van and kicked it open with a loud bang. “See you tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me warn y’all: chapter 8 is currently over 3k words and still not where I want it to be. So that chapter is a total MONSTER and I’m sorry if I don’t have it up by tomorrow! It’s a lot of flashbacks and character building all in one go so it’s taking a lot of time to perfect. I’m sorry if I can’t get it up by tomorrow! 
> 
> Again, thank you all so so much for all the kind words. I totally didn’t expect this to blow up as much as it did and I’m so frickin overwhelmed and honored. Thank you, thank you, thank you!


	8. Chapter 8

“Let’s start a band.” Larry rolled over onto his stomach. He was eighteen, junior year of school was ending, and Sal was laying naked next to him in the treehouse in a sleeping bag. The moon poured in through the window, bathing both boys in an angelic pastel filter. Sal’s hair always looked like it glowed in the dark, and Larry’s eyes reflected every single star. Both were so damn beautiful.

“What?” Sal sat up onto his elbows. “A band?”

“Yeah! It makes sense. Ash, Todd, you and me are all in band class anyway. That’s, like, free rehearsal time. We all can play instruments. We all are great! Plus, if we can manage to convince Maple, then we have the best bass player in all of Nockfell.” Larry leaned forward. “You already have songs written. I have songs written. We have, like, a genuine chance with this.”

“What would we even call it?”

“Anything you want.”

Sal looked down at his hands against the wooden floor. “I don’t know. I mean, look at me.” He waved a hand around his face. “All this gross goodness.” He frowned. “I don’t know who would pay to see this.”

“Your voice is everything, Baby Blue. Anyone would want to listen to it. Plus!” Larry cupped his cheek. “If it’s really an issue for you, you have your prosthetic. And I promise you we can turn that into a gimmick that would make the whole world fall in love with you. But you can’t fall in love with the world back. I’ll get jealous.” Larry leaned in and kissed Sal’s split lips.

Sal remembered it all like it was yesterday.

“Hey, Sally Face!” A knock on his hotel door woke Sal up from his daydream. He let out a deep, exhausted groan and pulled himself out of bed. He had been awake on his phone for a while, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t mentally asleep. He slipped on his prosthetic, not bothering to brush his hair.

Todd rolled over in the bed next to him. “It’s only like four, who the hell is waking us up?”

Sal opened the door to see Neil, Travis, Maple and Chug. Neil waved at him. “Hey! Sorry, were you sleeping?”

He just nodded back. “Yeah. It’s kind of our one day off.” That’s when he finally was awake to realize he was only in his boxers. He angled the door to cover himself at least a little more. “What’s up?”

“Sanity’s Fall has a tradition of going clubbing on their days off.” Maple said. “We fucking loved the idea. We wanted to invite you guys!”

 “What about Ash? And Larry? And those other two guys?” He rubbed his mouth under his mask. “I’ll only go if Ash goes.”

“She’s going. We’re heading out at seven to pre-game at a sports bar. Then we’re going to a fucking rave!” Chug put his arm around Maple. “It’ll be great.”

Sal nodded. “Cool. Sure. Whatever. Lobby at seven?”

“Lobby at seven!” Neil grinned. “Is, uh, Todd going to-“

“I’ll get him to come.” Sal smirked.

Travis shot Neil a look of disgust before walking away with Maple and Chug in tow. Neil grinned back. “Awesome. See you both in a few.”

When Sal closed the door, he ripped off his mask and collapsed on his bed. “Todd, we’re going out. Apparently we’re all going clubbing.” Before Todd could even start his sentence, Sal held up his hand. “Neil is coming.”

Todd pulled a pillow close. “Good.”

“Gay bitch.” Sal laughed. “Wear your blue shirt. It goes well with your hair.”

“And you should wear something more than just a sweatshirt.” He said. “Ashley has good clothes for going to a club. Ask her!”

Asking Ashley was how Sal ended up in a crop top, big hoop clip-on earrings and another faux-hawk. “I should just be your personal stylist at this point.” She backed up to admire her work. “The jeans make your ass look great.”

“I swear that I look more insane every time I let you near me.” Sal couldn’t help but feel entranced by his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “But you do a good job, dammit.”

“I think this will be good for us.” Ash said. “We never do shit like this.”

“Maybe that’s for a reason.” Sal worried his lip in between his artificial teeth. “I want to smoke a little before going. Do you have anything?”

“I’m almost out. But you can take one, literally only one, puff from my pipe.” She pointed to the hotel dresser where her near-empty sandwich bag of weed and amethyst pipe sat. “Lighter is in my purse. I’m going to reapply some liner and pack a dental dam.” She winked at Sal. “One of these days, I’m going to bring a girl back to the hotel with me like a real rockstar.”

“Oh, really? Maybe tonight’s the night.”

Ash and Sal met with Todd and in the hotel room before they all headed downstairs. They spent the entire elevator ride hyping up Todd. “Neil stares at you, like, all the time.” Sal elbowed him. “This is a great time to make a little move.”

Ashley put her arm around him. “Just lean in real close, and tell him all about how picky you are when it comes to the thread-count of your sheets. Or your flawless organization systems.”

Todd smacked her playfully on the shoulder. “I’ll have you know, Neil actually has a better organization system than me and I’m actually offended.”

Ash just shook her head, incredulous. “Soulmates are fucking gross.”

The elevator doors seemed to open in slow motion, revealing Sanity’s Fall – and Maple and Chug – in all their glory. Seeing everyone polished up was absolutely amazing.

Ash, Todd and Sal looked good enough. Todd looked vaguely like he was going to church. Ashley looked like she walked out of the pages of a tattoo magazine. And Sal looked like a Hot Topic manager.

But the others? God bless.

Neil looked like he just left a photoshoot for vogue. He was in a suit to end all suits, patterned and purple and beautiful against his perfect frame. Travis looked like Ozzy Osbourne in the 70s, like if Black Sabbath was back in full force. Maple and Chug were dressed like a Hollywood power couple. The two other Sanity’s Fall members, who Sal just could never remember the names of, weren’t there. He wasn’t surprised.

He didn’t see Larry at first. But once he did see him, all the breathe was knocked out of him. A shredded metal shirt, half-up-half-down hair, eyeliner, ripped jeans. The smoke of a vape was curled around his face, shrouding him in a fog that almost tented Sal’s pants and made his heart fall into his stomach. He turned to meet Sal’s gaze, and for just a microsecond they forgot they were surrounded by people.

He was snapped out of it when Ash punched him on the arm. “Wakey, wakey.”

“Can we go eat finally?” Chug pouted. “Maple and I are literally dying.”

“I could easily destroy some serious fucking burgers right now.” Ash said. “Where are we even going?”

“Chug found a peak sports bar.” Travis said. “Like…hella good.”

“Well, let’s go. Who’s wasting time?” Chug lead the cavalry out of the hotel and down the hot, gross downtown roads to the magical burger joint that all these horny, high, hungry young adults desired so deeply.

“You look good, Sal.” Travis said offhandedly, before walking ahead.

The blue-haired boy looked down at his feet and just smiled nervously. You would think that after all these years in the spotlight that he could finally take a complement like a real person, but he was awkward as ever. Sal jumped as Larry suddenly appeared on his blind side. “Shit! Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say that I like the look.”

“Oh.” Sal frowned. “Thanks. I guess.” Still awkward. “You look pretty nice yourself.”

“Oh, please, I just woke up and threw this all on.” He said. “You look like you spent a long time on this. I love the hair on you.”

“I didn’t take you for the clubbing type.” Sal said as they all rounded a corner.

The brunette shrugged. “It’s fun. It passes the time. It’s a good distraction. I don’t like just sitting alone.”

“You never did.” Sal sighed. “Do you still draw and paint and all that?”

Larry shook his head. “Not as much. Only once in a while. Mainly sketches. I don’t have time to do art when I’m constantly slamming my body down onto a stage.”

“Fair.”

When they reached the burger joint, Sal somehow ended up between Travis and Larry in a booth, much to Ashley’s chagrin. She had tried to get Sal to come over to the opposite side, but Travis asked him to sit and Sal was too socially awkward to turn away from someone he barely talked to.

And for some reason, Larry’s entire demeaner changed when Travis asked him to sit.

“So, Travis. Is tonight the night?” Neil asked innocently.

“Night for what?” Ash asked. Her and Neil sat together on the opposite side of the booth while Todd ordered for everyone at the counter and the other two tried to find chairs to pull up.

“ _Someone_ has been single for two years and not even trying to date around.”

“I don’t need to ‘date around’ to find someone.” Travis rolled his eyes. He pointed at Neil from across the table. “I think I’ll take a page out of your book and look closer to home.”

Neil blushed deeply.

Ash seemed to notice something, and instantly looked at Larry with narrow eyes. There was a silent conversation happening. “Well, Travis.” She turned to him. “Sorry to break it to you, but I swim in the other pool.”

“Same.” Travis glared back.

“Well, dating is dumb.” Larry blurted out. He crossed his arms and sat back. “Dating is stupid when you’re on the road. And it’s stupid in general. It’s…stupid.”

Sal rolled his eyes. “You’re stupid.”

That made Larry smile a little.

“Okay!” Todd plopped down next to Neil. “We have sixteen burgers, seven orders of fries, one order of onion rings, a sundae, three shakes, one float, three sodas, seven beers, and one spiked lemonade on its way.” He shook his head. “We’re fucking animals, aren’t we?”

“Who got the onion rings?” Chug asked.

Neil raised a sad hand.

“You, sir, disappointed me. I thought you were better than that.”

“So, Sal.” Travis said. “I really-“

“I think that we forgot to celebrate something.” Larry cried, sitting up straighter. “This little team of ours has sold out every single venue that we are playing at for the next five damn months.”

“Wait, every single one?” Maple started to nod in approval. “Bad-fucking-ass.”

Even Travis, still bitter about Larry’s interruption, had to nod at how good that was.

When the waitress dropped off the first round of drinks, Larry grabbed his and held it up high. “A toast. To unlikely friendships, fantastic music and a killer alliance.”

The rest of the dinner went as expected. Ash challenged Chug to see who could finish their beer faster in one go. Chug always won, and Sal didn’t understand why she insisted to prove herself. Neil and Todd were totally in their own world, talking about various boring topics like where they get their vintage records, the newest music mixing softwares and exactly how Neil had managed to out-organize Todd. Travis shared his food with Sal, which Sal thought was sweet. But Larry made fun of Sal for ‘mooching off a fellow twink’. That didn’t make Travis happy.

It, overall, was wildly positive.

But the mood shifted when they got to the club.

The club was bathed in a blue and purple light. Strobes would occasionally break this dreamy spell and add true color back into the room, but it mainly stayed in a hazy blur of fog and neon cold colors. The music was pulsing so hard that Sal could see the lights shaking and feel the beat in his lungs. On one side of the room was the bar, which was just as dark and packed as the dancefloor. There were so many fucking people.

Ash took his arm. She shouted something at him, but he couldn’t hear it. He just decided to follow her. Everyone was going to do shots first before jumping onto the dancefloor. Neil chose the drink of choice. Neon blue, a toxic scent, a chemical taste. “No chaser.” Travis mouthed. “Those are for pussies.”

After the shots, it didn’t take long for the group to accidentally part ways. Travis followed a group of boys to the back, and tried to bring Sal but Sal declined. Neil and Todd decided to go talk together in a booth far away. Chug, Maple and Ash all ran onto the dance floor as soon as a specific rap song came on.

So it was just Larry and Sal. Standing by a tall table with their drinks.

Some girl walked over and started to whisper with Larry. When the music lulled for a second, Larry leaned in. “I’m buying shit. You want any?”

Sal shook his head and tried not to watch.

The girl pulled out a bag of tiny blue pills. She put two on her tongue and stuck it out for him. Larry leaned in and pressed his tongue against hers, brushing the pills out of her mouth and into his. While doing that, he groped her ass and slipped cash into her back pocket. He whispered something to her before turning back to Sal and pointing at the dancefloor. Sal didn’t really have a choice. Everyone else was gone.

“Fine! But no funny shit!”

Larry didn’t hear him. No one did. It was too loud again.

He grabbed his arm and started to drag him into the crowd. Sal saw the exact second the molly hit Larry, and his gripped tightened on Sal’s smaller arm. Larry spun him around and started to dance to the electronic music. His pupils were blown out, he looked like he couldn’t focus. But he definitely knew Sal was there, because his grip on his arm didn’t loosen. It was like he would fall into nothingness if he let go.

Larry shouted something at him, but Sal couldn’t read his lips. Sal just shrugged back. So the taller boy grabbed Sal’s waist, lifted him and spun him around. Sal could faintly hear his roaring laughter. He had no idea what the hell was going on. When Larry dropped him, he pulled him against his chest. He was saying something, but Sal only caught a few words: “Does grinding count?”

“What?!”

Larry kept talking, a total motormouth, but Sal couldn’t hear it. He just kept trying to shout back, “What do you mean?! Grinding? What? I can’t hear you! What?” But Larry didn’t stop his invisible monologue. He just started laughing back.

Larry turned Sal around so his back was pressed protectively against Larry’s chest. His hands held onto Sal’s hipbones like handlebars. He felt a shiver run up his spine as Larry started to move against him. They swayed with the beat, following the rhythm they felt in their chests. The way Larry grabbed him, the way Larry leaned over him, the way Larry dug his nose into Sal’s hair. It was all too overwhelming too fast.

But the shot hit. And so did his second drink. And his pre-game beer. Everything hit at once and the world was spinning and the only thing that he could comprehend was the feel of Larry’s hard-on against his ass.

“Missed you.” Larry mumbled in his ear. He just barely caught it over the music. “Want you.” His grip tightened on his hips.

Sal was still present enough to hold Larry to his rule. No sex. No sex at all.

But dancing didn’t count, right? This wasn’t sex. This wasn’t anything.

That’s what Sal was telling himself, as he pushed back into Larry and reached up to tangle his hand in his hair.

This wasn’t anything.

He pushed back against Larry and swayed with him to the music. Occasionally, he would turn his head to see that his plastic lips were just barely away from Larry’s. He would be lying if he said the urge to kiss him or kill him weren’t two of the main things on his mind. Larry’s large hands wandered, from hips to waist to shoulders to stomach to waist to hips. It was like he was trying to relearn every crevice. Sal felt his knees go weak with Larry’s hand moved up to his throat and neck. Sal tugged lightly on Larry’s hair, and it loosened his grip enough for Sal to turn around.

He was taken aback by the look on Larry’s face. It was far away, lost. It was overwhelmed. It was the same look he had given him years ago. His face looked intense, sharp, alive. And helplessly devoted to the thing it was staring at. The two stood there, Sal’s hands on Larry’s chest, brown eyes pouring into blue, a confused face staring at a consumed one. The lights and music continued around them, but it was only them. It was only ever them.

“Larry, I-“

“Hey!”

The song changed from something heavy to something more along the lines of pop, and suddenly Ashley and Todd were in front of them. Larry and Sal jumped away from each other like they had just been caught making out by their parents.

“Do you remember this song?” Ash yelled over the music.

It took a second to register it, but it hit Sal like a truck. “It’s our fucking prom song!”

The four kids had been sitting in Ash’s room at the end of their last spring break when they decided that maybe, just maybe, they would actually go to prom. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as lame as they thought it would be.

Sal had asked Larry to prom at the same time Larry asked Sal. They both had flowers, they both had their guitars and they both had a song ready. It was like the universe was proving to them that they were soulmates more and more each day. Neither of them ended up actually asking. They just made out in the band room during lunch and laughed at each other.

Ash and Todd made a big deal about them asking each other. Todd had gotten her a shirt that said ‘Lesbian? I Thought You Were American’ on it, and she had gotten him a rainbow bowtie and rainbow Converse shoes. Both of them made a big deal of prom-posing in the quad during lunch, with a speaker and a banner and everything. It was a hilarious mess.

When the day of prom came, Ash and Sal and Todd all got ready together. Lisa wanted Larry all to herself that night. She was determined to make him look put together. Larry had worn an old shirt of his dad’s, oversized and a little wrinkled. A loose tie, ripped jeans. Definitely not fancy by any standard. But his hair was half-up in a manbun, and he had actually done something to his bushy brows for once. If you squinted, you could just barely see his mascara smeared under his eyes.

Sal looked like a millionaire next to him, in a proper suit and a bowtie. His hair was fully up in a bun, perfectly polished by Ash, and Larry couldn’t stop talking about how good it looked on him. They had danced together the whole night with Todd and Ashley, both of them in classic prom attire. But Ash wore Chucks under her purple dress, and Todd slicked back his hair. It was before Ash had cut off all her hair, so Sal had a lot of memories of getting hit in his plastic face by her giant mane while dancing. He had offered to braid it for her before the dance, but she just said she didn’t give a shit. She felt more like a goddess like this.

They all thought they were the hottest there. They were right.

After prom, they all went to a Waffle House and hung out until sunrise. They ate three rounds of food, smoked to their hearts content, sang karaoke with the jukebox and that’s when they all made the pact to never, ever leave each other’s lives. They did the most teenager shit imaginable, and all shared a cigarette and burnt themselves with it so they could have matching scars to prove they were together forever. It was like a modern scene phase blood-pact. Sal had his little circle scar on his collarbone. Larry had his on his bicep. Todd hid his on his stomach. Ash had hers behind her right ear.

They had been so carefree.

They had been so real.

It was all changed now.

But for four minutes, on that dancefloor, to the crappy pop music, they were back at prom. They were themselves again. Ash and Larry were falling over each other laughing. Todd and Larry were messing up each other’s hair. And everyone, all three of them, took turns lifting and carrying Sal. It was fun to be the shortest sometimes.

Larry leaned over to Ash. “Hey! I’m…I’m sorry. Ash, I’m sorry.” He shouted over the music. She gave him an empty stare before punching him in the arm. When it came to Ashley, that was as good as getting a kiss on the cheek. It was obvious: he was back in. He was held at an arm’s length, he would be dropped and forgotten with just one more misstep. But he was back in with her. Even if it was temporarily.

Sal finally admitted to himself that he missed Larry when everyone stumbled out of the club and climbed to the top of a parking garage to see the sunrise together.

Larry had helped carry Sal up the stairs, and Sal had helped him balance to sit the edge of the garage floor. The pink sunrise glittered off of Larry, reflecting sweat and tears and a giant smile. They both looked over the cityscape of Pittsburgh, the rest of the bands seated beside them. Everyone was drunkenly trying to sing ‘Piano Man’, screaming the lyrics into the pastel sky.

“I miss you, dude.” He spoke suddenly. Larry said it in a voice that was barely even a whisper. “Like, for real.”

Sal took a deep breath and let the alcohol speak for him. “I miss you too, Lar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHED IT IN TIME. GOD BLESS. When ever I felt too nervous about this chapter and was re-writing it for like the THIRD time I would go read old comments and it would give me the encouragement to continue. Thank you so much.
> 
> I did a major reorganization of the next three chapters which left me with,,,,, no chapter nine ready for tomorrow at all. So apologies if this one is not posted tomorrow. I'm still trying to keep up with daily updates but as the plot gets more deep, it's going to be harder. There’s a bombshell chapter coming up soon and I wanted the buildup to be FLAWLESS. Just a warning!
> 
> Also I was told I need to share this on Tumblr, but I don't have a tumblr. Feel free to share this I guess haha


	9. Chapter 9

Larry decided he had played a terrible show. It wasn’t true. It was completely false. But he decided it was so. To fix it, he locked himself in a hotel room and drank himself half to death. Sal watched him leaving in the morning, with a running nose and pounding head.

It was about two months into the tour, and damn. That happened more times than Sal could count. Larry showing up high, drunk, burned out, hungover. It was like watching an angel fall from heaven, over and over and over. He carried an aura of brokenness with him that Sal just didn’t notice before. It’s amazing what seeing someone regularly again can make you realize what you missed.

Larry always had white powder somewhere. His shirts, his pants, maybe caught in his scruff on the edges of his face. It was never noticeable at first, but if you looked just a little closer and squinted just a bit more then you could see the coke sprinkled on him like powdered sugar. He always had smoke coming out of his mouth or nose, if the place allowed it. He had mood swings, vicious ones, that were nothing like Sal could remember him ever having in the past.

Old Larry was inside somewhere. Fiancé Larry, Teenage Larry. He was inside somewhere. But he wasn’t out here. New Larry was broken. Sanity’s Fall Larry was shaking and livid and shattered and lying. He lied all the time. It might have been two years, but Sal could still read Larry. Even if it was only a little. And he could tell that Larry was bullshitting life as it came along.

Sal would be lying if he didn’t admit that it hurt his entire body to witness this.

Some things didn’t change, though, and it made Sal feel at home. Larry still smelled like pine, no matter the situation. Larry’s hair was still long, flowing, with oddly placed highlights left over from high school. He still wrinkled his nose when he laughed, and he always laughed loudly with his whole body. He still wasn’t afraid to cry, especially when frustrated. He still managed to somehow survive on a diet of strictly gas station sodas. He still never went anywhere, even the shower, without headphones on him somewhere.

His favorite food was still spaghetti. And it reminded Sal of when he was turning sixteen and he teamed up with Lisa to prank Larry. Larry’s terrified face when he found Sal’s glass eye under his meatballs was still the best present Sal’s ever gotten for his birthday. That was also when Larry first found out that one of Sal’s eyes was fake. He asked Sal if he had different colors besides blue, if his socket was sore, if he ever went without it. Larry was the only person who ever asked invasive questions in a genuine, loving way.

The hardest part about Larry, though, was the kindness. Sal was shocked at how truly nice Larry could be. In the past two years he forgot that is was possible. But now, seeing him daily? He forgot the little things that Larry did to help everyone around him. Tuning Travis’ guitar for him so he could take a call from his dad before a show. Doing Neil’s laundry, even while forgetting to do his own. Helping his driver clean the bus, going out of his way to sign random stuff for fans before the show even starts, bringing Ash coffee every time he got some, buying Travis a new external hard drive just because he saw one in passing. Larry was just a genuinely thoughtful person. Sal had just…forgotten that. But he was living it again now. And it just blew his mind all over again.

It reminded Sal of the first time they kissed.

They had been sitting on the couch in Sal’s apartment. His father was gone for work, per the usual, and for once the boys decided to actually hang out there. Sal, a lover of old gross horror films, had put on Dawn of the Dead and had curled himself up in a blanket on the corner of the couch. Larry, who barely even could watch Hocus Pocus without cringing with fear, kept scooting closer and closer to Sal with every second.

Then, they were sharing a blanket.

Then, the taller boy’s arm was around him.

Neither could remember how they got into that position. Just that they were both frozen in teenage awkwardness, scared that one move would rip them out of this perfect little scenario.

Larry broke the silent spell. “Do you remember the first time I saw your mask?” He asked quietly.

“How could I forget.” Sal said. He turned to find Larry only a few inches away from his face.

Larry used a gentle hand to unbuckle Sal’s mask, raising his eyebrows as a silent way to ask for permission. “You were headbanging so hard it flew right off and whacked me in the face. You were so worried about my bloody nose that you didn’t even notice at first.”

“I felt bad.” Sal watched as the prosthetic fell into his lap with a light thud. His bare face was exposed to Larry, only visible from the light of the TV. His hollow socket, lidless, holding only a glass eye. His nose, half-present, making cat-like noises every time he breathed. His lips, split down the side to expose fake, ceramic, perfect teeth. And then scars, so many scars, red and pink and white.

Larry reached out with one hand to rub the side of Sal’s face with his thumb. “Yeah, but once I told you I was fine…why did you cry?” He leaned in closer.

The blue-haired boy hesitated. “Because…you didn’t look away.”

They both leaned forward in unison to press their lips together. The entire world seemed to let out a sigh of relief. A bubble of tension almost a year old finally popped. How perfect.

Sal wished it was perfect again. Even though he refused to say it.

He was sitting alone in his room, trying to read for once when his phone buzzed.

         **Larry Johnson** _has mentioned you in a tweet._

Dammit.

         **@sallyface** _Come 2 my room 4 an asskicking_

Sal rolled his eye.

         **@larrysanitysfall** _what the hell do you want ?_

         **@sallyface** _Check DMs 4 room #_

Sal let out a groan of annoyance and flopped onto his bed. Letting Larry interact with him on Twitter was a nightmare. His notifications started to blow up with fans freaking out about them talking. Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit. True to Larry’s tweet, his room number was sitting in his message box.

_Room 402. Come hungry._

“Motherfucker.” Sal rolled his eyes. Todd and Neil still weren’t back from their romantic little tryst in Piedmont Park, in the heart of Atlanta. Ash was busy having a girl’s night with Maple. And Chug and Travis were having a night of gaming. Travis had invited Sal, but he said no. They had gone clubbing on every other night off, but after over a month of non-stop stage performance they finally decided to take a break and breathe.

Larry and Sal were the only ones alone. Guess that couldn’t last forever.

Larry’s door swung open before Sal could even knock. “You will _never_ believe what the hell I found at the gas station!” Larry spoke far too loudly. His eyes were burning red, his hair was piled on his head in a bun and he was shirtless. When he whipped around to get something from deeper in his room, Sal couldn’t help but stare at the giant, sprawling tattoo Larry had gotten a week ago. A twelve hour session, right before he got on stage. Just for a pair of angel wings to lay gracefully on his back muscles.

Sal wasn’t complaining.

Larry turned around and shoved a little plastic cup in his face. “I got like fifty of these for you. You’re welcome.” He jumped back onto his bed and winced as he landed. “Fuck. Forgot the tattoo.”

“…Easy-Mac?”

Larry paused for a second. “Why do you look so confused? Did you, like, repress literally all of high school?”

“Yeah, a little.” Sal tossed the Easy-Mac back to Larry and sat at the edge of the bed. “Fill in my blanks.”

“Remember when we bet Todd we could survive eating only Easy-Mac for a whole month and we only made it five days before getting so sick we missed a week of school?”

Sal burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck me! I forgot! We were quarantined into your bedroom and my dad was so mad that I would even try something like that. Lisa took great fucking care of us.”

“I got us literally every pack that they had at the gas station so we could feast tonight. And then get so sick that we are once again quarantined and must watch all seven seasons of Parks and Rec in one sitting again.” Larry reached over to his bedside table, where he already had three steaming cups of Easy-Mac ready. “Don’t judge me, I’m hungry.”

“How high are you?”

“I can hear the Easy-Mac talking to me.”

That made both of them start giggling.

“You’re an idiot.” Sal rolled his eye. He walked over and grabbed one of the pre-made cups. He sat on the bed next to the taller boy. He could suddenly smell the overwhelming amount of weed on him after getting closer. “Is this stuff still any good?”

Larry nodded while stuffing his face. “Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck yeah.”

“I know you didn’t just call me down for shitty mac and cheese. What’s wrong?”

He looked down at his food and pouted. “I read a rumor on Tumblr that you all are looking for a second vocalist. What’s up?”

Sal paused before putting down the cup. “You know we aren’t. And you know that, because you’re a jealous little psychopath.” Larry shrunk into himself. “But seriously, Lar. Why am I here?”

He put down his food and turned on to his side to face the wall, leaving Sal to stare at his back. “I…I can’t sleep. Nightmares. And that shit. And I don’t know. I just wanted to see if you would maybe, like, stay until I fell asleep? Or something?”

“Larry-“

He pulled his knees up to his chest. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He muttered. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I still have nightmares too, Larry.” He said quietly.

That was one of the main things that pulled them together when they were younger. Besides the fact that they truly had a friendship-at-first-sight, they both had an instant understanding of each other due to their respective night terrors.

At their first ever sleepover, Sal had been scared to sleep for two reasons. One was the fact that since he only had half his nose, he snored like a freight train. The second was because of the very high chance of him waking up screaming. He had never successfully had a sleepover before, and there was something terrifying about how Larry could decide that night that he was just too broken to deal with.

Larry gave him the tiny twin bed, and he slept on the floor in his mom’s sleeping bag. They had shared headphones and listened to music, just like always. Larry fell asleep first, which at least gave Sal the confidence to try to close his eyes and rest. He couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep. But he did remember being woken up by the sound of crying.

It was Larry, sixteen and terrified, crying into his hands on the floor of his room.

That was probably the first moment Sal felt completely, effortlessly safe with Larry. Because he knew he wasn’t alone.

Sal hesitated before pulling back a corner of the hotel blankets. “I’ll stay here. Until you sleep. But first we’re watching a movie and eating like seven more of these toxic little things.”

Larry didn’t move. “We’re…really bad at hating each other. Aren’t we?”

The shorter boy paused, long fingers gripping the comforter. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah we are.”

“But it’s not going to change any time soon, is it?”

Sal looked down and let his eyes carved out every curve and muscle on Larry’s back. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for some answers from the universe. But all he saw when he closed his eyes was the letter that said Larry had left. He knew deep down he should still hate him. And a part of him definitely did. Most of him definitely did. But there was a tiny part, a part that hadn’t died quite yet. A part that only felt more powerful with each passing day. “Eat. I can tell you need food to balance out how fucking sky high you are right now. And you can pick the movie.”

“…I want to watch Rent.”

“I regret coming down here.”

They ended up both crashing during the movie, and woke up with both of them sleeping on the edges of the bed, as far away from each other as physically possible. When they had started dating, they couldn’t let go of each other. They had such intense trouble _not_ sleeping together. Sal would call Larry on his walkie-talkie, which then soon turned into a FaceTime call once they both got phones as teens, but in truth the context and the execution didn’t matter. They would call. Every night. All the time. It was impossible for both to sleep without the last noise they heard being each other’s voices.

But that was the past. In the present, they had an interview. Both of them did. For local TV in the Atlanta area. They got up, slowly. Got dressed, slowly. Barely made it to the Uber at the right time. Barely made it to the station at the right time. Somehow the physical pain of eating too much Easy-Mac was harder to work through than a hangover.

Todd called Sal in the Uber. “Hey!” He said. “Where were you last night? Sorry that I was asleep when you came in to change.”

“You’re fine, Todd. I was just out.”

“Out? Damn. Did you have fun?”

“A better question: Did _you_ have fun?” Sal saw Larry giving him a look from across the Uber and he waved him off.

“Yes. Definitely yes. I really like Neil. Like a lot.”

“That’s fucking sweet.” Sal grinned. “I love that so much. You have to give me all the details tonight before the show.”

“Definitely!” Sal heard papers flipping through the phone. “Okay, so you know I’m not in this with you. So I wanted to make sure that you mentions the new single dropping at the end of the month, and don’t forget the fact we’re livestreaming the Dallas concert next week! Also make sure that you mention-“

“Todd?”

“Yes?”

“Text me all that, dude.”

Sal heard Todd laugh on the other side of the line. “Fair, fair. You got this! Text me if you need anything!”

After Sal hung up, Larry reached over and flicked the back of his phone. “So. Todd and Neil? Confirmed?”

Sal nodded. “Those two idiots are all in. Hook, line and sinker. Ash owes me ten bucks. She said it wouldn’t happen until November. But I _know_ Todd. He’s a loverboy.”

Larry looked down at his lap. “Make sure they don’t go public, okay? Make sure they’re careful.”

“Why?”

He turned to the window and shrugged. His mood shifted quickly. “Oh, shit! There’s a Krispy Kreme near here!”

The interview started as many of them do. The boring introductions, the announcements, the random little fluffy questions. The only difference is that this was TV, and so Larry and Sal had to play up the rivalry physically. And Sal also had to be extra careful to keep up physical appearances. He had straightened his hair and everything.

Larry had a familiar spark in his eyes throughout the interview, and it helped Sal through it. There was a lot of snapping, and sassing, and slapping of each other’s arms. To Sal it felt a lot more like flirting than a fight but the reporter was living for it so he didn’t stop. Larry had just told such a good joke that she had to pause and laugh and remind the camera man to cut that bit out later. Before he could speak again, the lady cut him off. “So, Larry. Is it true? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

Sal wasn’t ready to hear those words.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Larry put his hands behind his head. He flashed the camera a crooked smile. “I’m not going to say anything yet. But I might be coming home to someone tonight.”

 Sal rolled his eye.

 “What about you, Sally Face? Any woman getting to call you hers?”

 “I’m married to the music.” He said. “Maybe I’ll meet someone one day. I would love to have a big, fabulous wedding. Instead of a first dance, I want to have a first song. My lucky person and I will sing a duet for our wedding. I think it would be amazing.”

 “You should sing Baby Blue.” Larry elbowed him before pointing at the camera. “Acoustic version now available on iTunes and Spotify and Amazon-!”

 “Shut it!”

 The interviewer laughed. “That’s very sweet, Sally Face. I’m sure whoever you end up marrying will be so lucky to have you.”

 Sal felt a bolt of courage. “I was actually engaged once.”

Larry gripped onto his chair, his face faltering for a second. He tried to stutter out a comeback. “That’s news to me, Michael Myers.”

“What happened with your fiancé, Sally?” The interviewer leaned in close. “Was the fame too much?”

 Sal shook his head. “No. It turns out they were just a huge bitch. Left a week after the proposal. Hasn’t even told me why.”

"I’m sure there’s a reason.” Larry said quickly.

“There’s no valid reason to do something like that.”

“Maybe there was.” He bit back.

“Maybe they were just a coward! Who doesn’t even leave a note?” Sal cried. “So I’ve turned to music and only music. I’m married to the Sally Face Killers.” He did the sign on the cross on his chest. “May that unholy union last.”

“While we’re getting personal.” Larry adjusted himself in his chair. “I might as well spill the beans. I used to be engaged to. We were young and stupid and we thought the whole world was our kingdom. But life gets in the way. I needed to do what I needed to do to protect my loved ones. And it sucks. But shit happens.”

“Both of you were engaged?” The reporter giggled. “It wasn’t to each other, was it?”

It was an obvious joke but both boys froze for a millisecond. Then they both burst out laughing.

“Real funny!”

“You really got us there.” Sal pointed fingerguns at the interviewer and instantly regretted how embarrassing that action was.

“You know how in books, character foils are mirrors of each other and all that? And also are typically enemies of each other?” Larry said. “Yeah. Like that. We have really similar lives. But we just can’t stand each other.”

 “It makes for great chemistry on stage!” The reporter said.

 Sal pinched the bridge of his plastic nose. “Larry, you have no idea what a character foil is, do you?”

 “Look, I’m trying!”

 “Well, boys, we’re running out of time! Any last words for our viewers?”

 Larry wrapped his arm around Sal and nearly pulled him out of his chair. “Come watch this guy lose at ScreamFest!”

“Come watch this asshole get his bird beak broken!”

“Screamfest is on December 16ththrough December 19thin Los Angeles, California! The Battle of the Bands is all day on the 19th, starting at noon, so go ahead and get your tickets and get ready for a great show!” The reporter winked at the camera. After a moment, the cameraman gave her a thumbs up and she turned back to the boys. “Fantastic. It really was a joy talking to you guys. You did great. If you’re ever in Atlanta again, contact us. You both have serious cinematic presence.”

They went straight to the venue from there. It only made sense. They were dropped off in the far back, far away from the entrance. As they made their way up to the stage door, Sal saw Travis and the two other Sanity’s Falls guys working out in the gravel parking lot, shirtless and glistening with sweat in the early sunset. Him and Larry walked through the parking lot, muttering about something or another when Travis finally noticed them.

“Hey! Sal!” Travis jogged up to them, but conveniently ignored Larry. That made him bristle. He just pretended not to notice. “Sal. Hey.”

“Hey, Travis!” Sal noticed for the first time the giant religious tattoo on the side of his ribs, all black ink and daunting and scary. It was probably supposed to be Christian, but it just came out demonic. “What’s up?

“I was just wanting to know how the interview went.”

“Fine enough. We lived.”

Travis nodded. “That’s good. I’ll, uh, see you later tonight? I’ve really enjoyed getting to hear you actually, like, sing.”

“Oh!” Sal said. “Thanks. I’ll see you tonight.”

 As Travis wandered off, Larry elbowed Sal hard in the side. “You’re being weird today.” His voice had a sudden edge to it.

“What do you mean?” They both kept walking through the back lot to the venue.

“Why did you say all that? In the interview?”

“Say what?” He walked ahead a little and grabbed a water bottle out of a cooler sitting on a back step.

“Like that abandonment stuff. And the coward thing.” Larry’s voice was small.

It took a second for Sal to register what he meant. “What? About you? No one knows it’s you, if that makes you feel better.”

“Yeah, but-“

“But what?” Sal put a hand on his hip. “What?”

“You don’t have to talk about it. Like that.”

Sal couldn’t help but laugh at that. “What do you mean? Of course I do. You were a coward.”

“But I thought I was doing okay! I thought we were okay.”

“Oh my god.” The blue-haired turned around to go inside the venue.

“I thought we had been getting better!” Larry’s words hit Sal like a truck.

Sal whipped around. “Better?” He cried.

“Yes! We danced together, and you said you missed me and me and Ash have been talking again and-“

“You think one singular night of dancing is going to fix everything?” Sal screamed. “You think one single night where I don’t feel like punching out your lights is going to fix everything? I was drunk! Of course it was better that night, I was drunk!”

Larry crossed his arms. “And every night after?”

“Drunk!”

“Are you drunk all the time then?” He was getting louder and louder.

“Larry, do you seriously think that just because we dance together or because I’m polite that things between us are getting fixed or something?”

“No, I didn’t say that-“

“Yes! You did!”

“Then maybe!” Larry threw his hands up in the air. “Maybe I thought things were getting fixed. Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Maybe things have been getting better for you, Larry. Maybe we can talk. Maybe we can joke. Maybe we can exist in the same room. Maybe you don’t feel as _guilty_ anymore. But every single little time I look at you, you are still my fiancé who fucking abandoned me.”

Larry slammed his fist into the outside wall of the venue. “Then stop acting like you’re still in love with me!”

“Excuse me?!”

“Stop looking at me like that. Stop staring at me. Stop reciprocating when I make moves! Stop dancing so close on stage! You either act like we’re back together, or like we’re never going to talk again, so make up your mind! Stop making me want you again. I had fucking gotten away. We had a fucking routine. We were _fine._ You’re the one messing with my fucking emotions!”

“I’m messing with them?! _I am?!”_ Sal stormed up to Larry and grabbed the front of his shirt. “Then why did you leave?”

“Sal-“

“Why. Did. You. Leave.” Sal felt hot tears falling down his cheeks. “Because _that’s_ messing with my emotions, Larry! That is. We were going to get married. You _proposed._ I had a plan. We had a plan. We were going to build a life together. I gave you five of the best years of my life! I gave you everything. Every first-time. Every second of my day. Do you know how hard it is to deal with this? You were the one person in the whole world I told everything to and you were gone. You left me, and you were still the only person I wanted to vent about it with! You were the only person I wanted to talk to about it. Because we told each other everything, and now suddenly you were the issue I needed to talk about. We _never_ fought. We _never_ had a problem! We never did anything wrong, so please fucking tell me _why I wasn’t enough!”_

Larry stared at Sal in silence. Quiet tears ran down his face. “…You were enough Sal. You were more than enough.”

“You’re just like your fucking dad was.” The words were out of Sal’s mouth before he could stop them. “You’re just going to fucking leave the people who need you most.”

Something inside Larry broke. He didn’t move, he didn’t flinch. But in the darkest, deepest voice, he spoke. “Get the fuck away from me.”

Larry didn’t show up for the performance that night. He left right after the fight and didn’t come back. Sanity’s Fall had to cancel their set. The Sally Face Killers still performed, and the entire time Sal was convinced that Larry had left again. Ran off. Abandoned a whole different band, just like he had abandoned them. It was all Sal could think about, and he knew he didn’t do his best that night.

But Larry hadn’t abandoned them. Not physically, at least. He had tried heroin again on a whim, apparently finding some dealer on CraigsList, and it made him so sick he couldn’t even physically move. Alarm bells went off in Sal’s head as soon as Neil told him and Todd, and it took every fiber of his being not to run and get a doctor. But Sal knew how this went. If the lead singer is caught sick off his ass because of black tar he bought online, the band goes away. That’s months of rehab. That’s years of a bad reputation. There’s no coming back from the public scandal.

So Sal had to sit in the tour bus with his friends, driving ahead, living with the knowledge the Sanity’s Fall bus was being filled with puke and piss because one idiot decided to try heroin. _Again._

Sal blamed himself. He would never say it out loud, but he did.

“He’s an idiot, isn’t he?” Ash said quietly. Sal was braiding her hair, both of them crammed into one of the bunks of the bus.

“Yep. The biggest idiot ever.”

“What’s going on with you two?” Ash reached back to put her hand on his leg. “I can read you, Sal. Like all the time. But I can’t read you when it comes to him. And I can barely read him when it comes to you either. You all are getting so…complicated. And I’m so worried about you.”

“We shouldn’t have ever been put on tour together. My brain is getting all…mixed up.” He combed out the braid with his fingers and started again.

“It’s okay to feel mixed up. But you need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“To be fair, I’m doing better than he is.” He winced at his own words. Joking about it made it worse.

A week passed, uneventful. They played Jacksonville and Tampa and Orlando. None of them saw a single member of Sanity’s Fall once. They were all-consumed with healing their idiot lead singer. The Sally Face Killers played gigs on their own, and whenever asked they gave the standard answer. “Strep throat! They’ll be back in a few days!”

If their absence was a bubble, it was loudly popped when The Sally Face Killers pulled up to a motel in Tallahassee to see the giant beige Sanity’s Fall bus. “Looks like they finally showed up.” Chug turned around and pointed at Todd. “Go check in with Neil. He has the room information for this one. The rest of you, grab your shit. We have two shows in a row here before we drive back up to Memphis so get comfy.”

Maple leaned over and kissed him on the head. “You better actually sleep this time.”

When they exited the bus, Neil and Travis were there to meet them. Without even asking, Travis snatched Sal’s bags out of his hands. “I’m going to help you.” He said.

Sal just nodded awkwardly back in silence. “Cool.” He gave him a thumbs up.

Neil threw the room keys at Ash before pulling Todd aside, dragging him far away from the group, bags and all.

“Jesus!” Ash dropped her backpack to sort through them. “Uh…Sal, here. You have a solo one this time. Me and Todd are next door. Shit, where did Todd go? I needed his help!” She shook her head and stormed off to their room, but not before shoving Sal’s key into his hand.

Everything was moving too damn fast.

“How’s Larry?” Sal asked Travis as they walked towards the outdoor staircase that lead to his room.

“Alive.” The blonde boy replied. “It could have been a lot worse than it was.”

“Yeah. I bet.”

When they made it to Sal’s door, Travis set down his stuff. “I’m, uh, only a few rooms down. If you need anything.” He sniffled.

The blue-haired boy reached out and pat Travis on the shoulder. “Thanks. For the help. And I’m here if you need anything too. Ashley’s better at most emotional things than me but I can like, help make ramen or something.”

That made Travis just barely crack a smile. “See you later.” Sal watched him turned around and walk away, and caught him looking over his shoulder at him. It made him smile, but it made Travis blush hard and walk faster.

“Sal!”

He whipped around to see Todd charging down the opposite side of the hall at him, dragging Neil with him.

“What the hell did I do this time?!” Sal cried.

“No, no.” Todd stopped in front of him panting, balancing himself with his hands on his knees. “We have to get Ash. We have to go to our room. We have to talk. _Now._ ”

“Why? What? Can I, like, unpack for a second?”

“Trust me. This is more important.” Neil said, out of breath.

“What the hell is such a big deal?”

Neil reached out and grabbed Sal’s shoulder. “I know what happened with Larry. I know why he left."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uhhhh made a tumblr so I could interact with you all more and hopefully not be as anxious about it. Its ironiclittlebaby, it’s mainly going to be random Sally Face crap and talking to you all so that’s neat.
> 
> I’m sorry this chapter is actually over 5k, like jesus. I just dumped a novel on you. I’m so sorry. Also in case there’s any doubt: I live like two hours from Atlanta and you can totally buy heroin on craigslist here. It’s a nightmare.
> 
> Also keep recommending me music that makes you think of this fic! It helps with my writing a lot!


	10. Chapter 10

It had been the week before Larry Johnson’s twenty third birthday when he proposed to Sal Fisher.

Larry couldn’t help himself. He had been planning to do this for a while, there was no hiding that. There was an endless beauty in Sal that he just couldn’t put into words. No one made him feel so capable, so happy, so fucking fulfilled. He had always known he was going to marry Sal, even as early as their very first kiss. He just didn’t expect to ask him so quickly. But he just couldn’t fucking help himself.

Sal had been sitting on the bed, playing on his DS when he suddenly spoke. “I think that we should find an online art school for you. While we’re on the road.”

There was something about the offhanded thoughtfulness that made Larry unable to hold back.

“Marry me.” Larry had said. He grabbed Sal’s hand and pulled him close and stared into his eye. “Marry me at the end of our first real tour together. Promise?”

“Larry, what are you saying?”

“I’m proposing. I’m not good at it, but I am. You are…my everything. I can barely remember life before you and I don’t want to imagine a life after you. Every feeling I’ve ever felt is overwhelmed by you. I literally have cried because I’m so full of love for you that it physically hurts me.” He had been grinning like an idiot. “I already see you every day. But now I want to make sure you are a part of every second, every moment. You are the air I breathe and the water I drink and the very blood in my fucking veins. Marry me, Baby Blue. Be my fucking rockstar.”

Sal burst into tears instantly and jumped into his arms. “Fuck yes!” They spent the rest of the night not letting each other go and planning their dream wedding. Sal wanted a kitten pen. Larry wanted three different cakes. Sal didn’t want to wear a normal suit. He wanted a full-on white tux, something super unique. Larry said that he would wear the plainest suit possible and change for the reception.

“Fuck suits.” Larry said. “That shit’s boring.”

“I…I don’t think I want to wear my prosthetic for it. For the wedding.” Sal had said while running his fingers over Larry’s neck.

“Oh. Shit. Are you sure?”

“I want you to see me. I want to see you. Fully. I…I want us to be us and nothing but us.”

“I love you, Sal.”

Larry tried to keep it a secret. They had both agreed to. They wanted it to be _their_ engagement before it was the world’s. For at least a little while. But he ended up going to the treehouse with Ash the next day and headbanging their hearts out to the loudest music they could find. “I fucking did it, Ash!” He picked her up and spun her around. “I’m going to fucking marry him!”

As his birthday approached, Larry was asking everyone for just a gift of money. He wanted to get Sal a ring as soon as possible. He had something pretty picked out on Etsy. Silver, simple, elegant. A blue stone in the middle. God, it was perfect. He would propose correctly this time. He would play ‘Baby Blue’ on his guitar, and then he would get down on a knee in front of everyone. The way Sal deserved. Maybe at the next concert. In front of as many people as possible.

It all went south, though, the morning of the 7th.

He woke up to birthday pancakes, filled with chocolate chips and sprinkles, just like Lisa did every year. Kisses from his mom started his day, and she handed him an old pair of cuff-links that used to be his dad’s. “For the wedding.” She had winked at him. Of course she knew before he could tell her. She always knew.

“Did you listen through the walls?” Larry chuckled.

“I was taking out the trash when I heard you and Ashley outside in the treehouse.” Lisa said. “You were extremely loud, per the usual.”

An adorable Snapchat video from Sal arrived after breakfast, reminding him to show up at seven for the not-so-surprise party that he was trying to keep secret but Ashley let spill because she was too excited. Sal blew him a kiss and called him his ‘future husband’. Those words made Larry tear up from the happiness.

Then he got a call. It told him to go to the radio station in downtown Nockfell, and not to tell anyone. It was a ‘musical emergency’ they had said. He doesn’t know why he didn’t just text the others to ask what was going on. But he just rode there on Ash’s hand-me-down bicycle alone.

When he got there, Red Endless was there with two other guys in suits. “Larry! Nice to see you again. Congrats on the success of your first album.”

Larry sat down nervously. “Thanks! We’re so excited. We can’t wait to play more-“

“I bet. Sally Face Killers are going to have a serious tour schedule. You all must be so proud.”

“Yeah. Hey…why are you here? I don’t think the other guys know you’re here-“

“Let’s cut to the case kid.” Red lit a cigar. “You don’t want to be associated with a bunch of fags, right?”

Larry blanched. “Excuse me?!”

“Oh, come on! I know, which means you totally know. The girl’s a dyke, ginger is a sissy and Sally Face? That kid’s a full-on tranny trap. Who wears their hair like that?” Every word made Larry’s pulse increase. “Don’t get all angry, it’s just facts. They’re all queers. But you? You’re a man, Larry. And you have so much potential. The Sally Face Killers have a fine future ahead, but you? You’re the true star. You deserve the paycheck to prove it.”

“I…I don’t understand. What are you saying? Why are you-”

“I’m giving you a band, Larry. I’m giving you four bandmates, in the same sad position as you. Real men, forced to be suppressed by their fag friends.”

“Stop saying that!” Larry pushed back the chair and stood up. “Stop saying that word. They’re my friends. Stop saying all that.”

Red narrowed his eyes “I am giving you the opportunity to be the lead of a band. I’m going to make you the world’s biggest star. I’m going to give you the entire music world on a silver platter. Plus…” He slid a paper across the table. “I think it would be nice to give your mom a break.”

His heart stopped. “What?”

“Lisa Johnson. That’s her name, right? She’s been working her butt off for you ever since she popped you out at Nockfell General. I did some research. A single mom, abandoned by her husband. It’s no wonder. She didn’t have much to give besides her love. If she had something else, I’m sure Jim would have stayed. You should help her out. I am giving you the opportunity to send her 50% of your salary.” He pointed at the paper. “You sign up for this new band. You leave the Sally Face Killers. I raise your pay by over 200%. And your mom automatically gets half your monthly pay deposited in her account.” He leaned in close. “She will never have to work another day in her whole life.”

Larry sat back down slowly. “My mom…” Her loving smile from this morning flashed in his mind.

“She can start a real life. Go back to school. Maybe even move into a real house. Enjoy herself. You want that for her, don’t you?”

Larry hesitated before nodding.

“Yeah. You want her to have a good life. And you can give that to her. She deserves it. She’s done so much for you.”

Larry nodded.

“One last thing.” Red said slowly. “If you leave Sally Face Killers, you are going to separate yourself from them in a way that’ll give us the most traction possible. You are going to hate them. Despise them. Sally Face will be your nemesis. And you all will fight. And it will drive records sales. You keep up appearances, and you keep up numbers, or your mom loses her paycheck. You will do what the studio needs for you to do.”

As soon as Red said those words, Larry understood what was happening. He was selling his soul to be a puppet.

But his mother deserved the money.

So, he signed the contact, hopped on the plane as fast as possible and was out of Nockfell by 6:30 PM. He left a note for his mom. Threw half his shit in the city’s dumpster. Left a box of Sal’s stuff outside his door. But he had gotten in the habit of always having one of Sal’s belongings with him. So in a panic, he grabbed the first item off the top of the box of Sal’s things and ran. It just so happened to be an unfinished diary.

He was gone without a trace within hours.

He got the first call from Sal at 7:15PM. He blocked his number. And Ash’s. And Todd’s.

He sobbed the entire night.

He met his bandmates that evening. Travis and Neil were his favorites. Travis was ripped away from his duet act with his secret boyfriend, with the promise of no one finding out he was gay. Neil needed to pay back student loans. The other two guys were straight and bored, but they needed to get their name out there before they would try to do their own thing.

None of them wanted to be there. But they needed to be. And now, thanks to a few thousand words and a signature, they were there for a minimum of three years.

Their EP was handed to them, almost completely mixed and done minus Larry’s vocals. Nothing was really theirs. That both took away all the stress from Larry’s mind and replaced it with a new, more painful emotion.

“You’re a fake.” He would tell himself.

Their first interview was as scripted as it could get. Larry first snorted coke before that interview. Travis had brought it, and if Travis had been doing it for so long without dying then it must not be that bad. So Larry snorted a line and let the train hit his brain and that night he told the world that he fucking hated the person that he was supposed to marry.

“Sally Face was a nightmare to work with. The entire band was. I left because I realized I deserved so much more.”

He spent the next six months drinking pills, on a diet of acid and breathing only through his mouth because his nose was busy. He only stopped missing the Sally Face Killers so much when he couldn’t think straight. He only stopped missing talking to Ash when he couldn’t feel his hands. He stopped missing Todd’s advice only when he was close to throwing up. Numbing _everything_ was the only way to not miss Sal.

He tried to avoid all the news he possibly could. But it would always get the better of him, and at 3:00AM he would be scrolling through Todd’s and Ash’s and Sal’s twitters in the hopes of getting _some_ information to make him feel less alone. He stalked fan blogs and Tumblrs, fansites and newsletters. Any little bit of information, no matter how small, was able to make him feel like he still knew Sal. Sal gets a haircut? Awesome. The band celebrated their second EP release with a rager at a club? Fantastic. Anything was golden to him. He just wanted to know everything.

The first time he saw Sal after everything was something he’ll never forget. They just so happened to be at the same venue, on the same night. They had run into each other, literally, while neither of them were paying attention in this crowded backstage. Larry had changed a lot, physically. Lots of new tattoos and piercings, new expensive clothes, new everything. Sal was the same. Like he was frozen in time. He was still the same person he proposed to. Soft hair, plush skin, shining eye, long fingers on beautiful hands that danced on the surface of a guitar.

Sal seemed in shock the first time their eyes made contact. Then his entire demeaner changed. “What’s up, traitor?”

That solidified everything.

Very quickly they fell into a dark, malicious banter that broke through the walls and got under their skin. They were itching for _something_ to be released. There were too many emotions inside both of them. It didn’t take long for that anger to turn into something much more animal, and Sal was on his knees in a bathroom before either of them even set foot on stage that night. That was the beginning of hell.

They fell into that routine, and although Sal didn’t know it Larry was dying. Every touch made him hate himself more and more and more. He had abandoned an angel, and nothing could save his soul. For a few seconds at a time, Larry felt reborn under Sal’s hands. He found salvation between milky white thighs covered in scars. He was carried to the top of a mountain to bask under the glow of heaven every single time a blue eye met brown ones. Just the sound of his name on his lips was enough to make Larry want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

But they never kissed. Sal never lifted his mask to kiss him. And maybe that was all that Larry needed to push himself over the edge and confess everything. But Sal would blame himself, and try to fix everything as always. And Sal couldn’t fix this, so Larry made it easy for both of them. There would be nothing to fix.

The promise of seeing Sal again every few weeks is what made him an addict yet prevented him from overdosing. The thing he needed the most was going to kill him. He ended up saving the Sally Face Killer’s schedule on his phone just to make sure he planned his best outfits and best sets for those nights. He was a sad, dying peacock trying desperately to flash his feathers.

He had a notebook, a sketchbook, filled to the brim with sketches of nothing but Sal. It was all Sal. It began and ended with Sal. He was the alpha, the omega, the genesis and the revelations. And Larry was a sinner. He would never get to see the end. He had to live with the fact that the beginning was so short, and that he was the one that killed off the lamb before it could ever grow up.

It had been two years. And Larry Johnson was still insanely, deeply, intensely, beautifully, horrifyingly in love with Sal Fisher.

It was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start by saying thank you to everyone who's contacted me through the tumblr and sent me art/videos/ANYTHING inspired by this fic. It literally brings me to tears. Like I could have never expected a response like this and it just means so so SO much to me. Thank you. I'm just at such a loss for words.
> 
> I've mapped out all the way through chapter 21, so don't worry. We may have gotten a taste at some backstory but theres still a LOT more to come. I'm so excited to you all to read what's in store. Yay!


	11. Chapter 11

Sal was sobbing into his hands, his face long discarded. Todd rubbed his back in circles as his body shook. Todd wasn’t crying, but his face was blank and his eyes were downcast and he was stiff as a board.

“…shit.” Ash shook her head. “Fucking shit.” She was curled up in a hotel bed, clutching pillows her to chest. There were small tears in her eyes, but her face was angry.

Neil leaned in and grabbed Sal’s shoulder. “He still loves you, Sal. Whenever he has his little benders, he talks about you for hours. I just thought it was like a dumb hate thing, but now…” He gave Todd a look out of the corner of his eye. “That man can talk when he’s sick, dude. I swear I know more about all of you then I even know about my own family now. This last week has been a trip.”

Ash frowned. “But then why the façade? Why didn’t he just tell us about it?” She picked at her nail polish.

“Because he would have never been able to marry Sal.” Neil said. “The contract he signed legally prevents him from seeking marriage for three years minimum. We’re on year two. And he would have never seen Sal, never been with his own fiancé. Never able to talk about it. Never able to enjoy it. Never able to be friends with you all. Gone all the time? Having to fight with you all publicly? That’s murderous. He had to convince himself it was true so he could survive.”

“That’s bullshit!” Ash cried.

“Trust me.” He said. “I agree. It’s not okay. But he thought he was doing the right thing.”

“Why is he only now mentioning it to you all?” Sal whispered.

“Because maybe he realized he almost fucking died, and he should actually be honest for once.” Todd let out a heavy sigh.

“What do we do?” Ash asked.

“Well, we have a show in three hours. So nothing now.” Todd said. “But we can figure it out in the morning. Sal?” He moved his hand to Sal’s knee. “Are you okay to perform tonight?”

Sal wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. He couldn’t help but let out another tiny, pathetic sob.

“Are you sure?”

“I-I need to. I need to be on stage tonight.” Sal rubbed his knuckles together. “I need to do this.”

“I completely understand.” Neil said. “We’re on first tonight, so I probably need to get back to the group soon.” He reached out and gingerly pushed back a bit of Sal’s hair. “If you need anything or have _any_ questions, just ask. I’m here for you, dude.”

Ash took Sal’s hand and held it. “All of us are here for you.”

“We’re all here for each other.” Sal pushed his bangs off his forehead, just now realizing that Neil was seeing his face for the first time. He didn’t even think about that when he ripped off his prosthetic, he just wanted more room to cry. “Shit. Sorry, Neil. Hope you aren’t scared of Freddy Kruger.”

“Honestly? I expected worse. Is the mask, like a-“

“Prosthetic.”

“Awesome.” Neil smiled. “Thanks for trusting me.”

Todd looked over at Neil and gave him a sheepish smile. “Are you leaving?”

“Sadly.” The two shared a soft look between them.

“Don’t get too gay in front of me, I’ll start crying.” Ash scooted closer to Sal and wrinkled her nose. She rested her chin on Sal’s shoulder. “Do you feel any better knowing?”

Sal shook his head. “I feel worse.”

Sal put his heart and his soul into the performance that night. He gave everything into his guitar solos, gave everything into his dancing. He wanted to be free. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to jump off a cliff.

Larry came on stage for his numbers with them. He was wearing a Sally Face merch shirt, for some god-forsaken reason. Maybe it was a subtle apology. Maybe it was a joke. Who knows. But Sal had so much to say and no time to say it.

The first note of ‘Basement’ started. Larry started to sing, deep and low and vibrating throughout the auditorium. Sal walked over to him slowly, strumming his guitar. When he reached Larry, he leaned forward to sing into his mic. He didn’t take his eyes off Larry’s face. Larry didn’t seem to notice the other boy’s intense gaze until the beat started to speed up. Sal and him kicked it into gear at the same time, with the thrashing and the jumping across the stage. They were losing themselves, in the best way possible.

During Ash’s drum solo, Sal leaned away from the mic to Larry. “You remember our Brook’s Edge show?”

Larry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Do the lift thing!” Sal swung his guitar over his shoulder, snatched the mic out of Larry’s hand and jumped at him. Larry caught him by the ribs, and Sal wrapped his leg’s around Larry’s waist. Larry dipped him, lower him backwards until Sal’s head was only an inch or two from the stage floor, and Larry’s face was barely an inch or two from Sal’s lips. Sal ran his hands through his bright blue hair and screamed his lyrics into the mic, enjoying the feeling of behind held and safe by Larry, leaned completely over him. The crowd was burning for it, calling out for more. When Larry stood back up, he gently dropped Sal back onto his feet before sliding on his knees towards the crowd.

Larry was already on his knees, so Sal took the chance to sit on his shoulders so Larry could lift him. This always made the crowd go wild.

“Thank you and goodnight, Tallahassee!” Sal yelled from Larry’s shoulders. He lifted the mic above his head before dropping it. Larry caught it with one hand. Sal turned the guitar around to play the instrumental outro ‘Everything Ends’ before Larry set him down and everyone bowed.

“I’m surprised you remembered that!” Sal was panting when they walked off stage. He grabbed a water bottle from a table and chugged it in one fell swoop.

“Of course I do. That’s one of the best shows I’ve ever played.” Larry said. “I’m surprised you asked for it.”

“Sal!” Travis appeared out of nowhere. “Dude, you were amazing tonight! Your voice, your dancing. Everything. God, I want to be like that someday.” He sounded genuinely excited, genuinely happy. There was real human emotions in his voice.

“Shit. Thanks.” Sal grinned at him and high-fived him. “I can’t catch my breath.” He turned around to talk to Larry, but he was gone.

Travis lightly tapped Sal’s shoulder. “You know, I would love if we rehearsed some time together. I know we don’t perform together, but it would be to share some secrets. A-about the music.” He handed him a second water bottle.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Sal gave him a tight smile before looking down at his red hands.

“Need help icing?” Travis asked.

Sal looked down the empty backstage. Larry was completely gone. He looked down at his bruised fingertips again and nodded. “Yeah. That would be awesome.”

He road back to the hotel in an Uber with Travis, and joined him back at his hotel room in the early, early hours of the morning. Travis, being a guitarist himself, knew exactly what to do. They both sat on the hotel bed together. He filled two bowls with ice water and gently helped Sal lower his bruised knuckles in. “You don’t do this enough. I can tell.”

“How can you tell?”

Travis gingerly lifted Sal’s left hand out of the bowl. “Look. At the way your knuckles stick out. You look like a Tim Burton character.”

“I’m just a boney bitch.”

“No, you’re just not taking care of your hands.” Mindlessly, he started to massage between Sal’s fingers. He moved from the fingers to the palm to the wrist and back.

It felt so good on his shaking fingers that he instinctively closed his eye and leaned into it. “Where the hell did you learn to do this? Are you a secret medical god?”

“I was a Boy Scout.” Travis said. “First aid master.”

“I didn’t expect that answer.” Sal smirked.

“I mean, most Boy Scouts end up gay and an addict. It’s like Satan’s poetic justice.” Travis dipped Sal’s hand back into the water and grabbed the other one. “I’m assuming you weren’t into that shit?”

“God, no. Theater and band nerd, all the way. I used to do tech for all the shows my school did.”

“Never sang in them?”

“No one wanted to cast a creepy porcelain doll to be the lead. Can you imagine this face being in ‘Hello, Dolly’? I don’t think so.”

Travis laughed. “Fair. Fair enough.” He paused for a second. “You don’t sing enough.”

“I don’t like singing without Larry.” Sal said without thinking. He was too tired to care. “Don’t tell him that, though. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Your secret is safe with me. Scout’s Honor.”

“That sounds so fucking lame.” Sal laughed. When Travis was done rubbing his other hand, he dried them on his jeans. “I need to go sleep. If we’re performing again here tomorrow, I need to rest.”

“And you need to ice your hands after tomorrow night, too.” Travis said.

Sal rolled his eye as be crawled off the bed. “Ugh, fine.”

“Promise?”

“Scout’s Honor.”

The next day came quickly. Sal crashed the second he touched the bed and woke up ten hours later to Todd shaking him to get ready for the show. He hadn’t meant to sleep so late, but he supposed all the crying before the show the previous night hadn’t helped his perpetual exhaustion. The show happened, the show was beautiful. Larry was beautiful. Sal was beautiful. Everything was perfect. It just made Sal break.

Larry disappeared to his hotel room again, right after the show. He was gone, but this time Sal was determined to talk to him. He _needed_ to. He soaked his hands after the show, only because he had promised Travis. He didn’t do it long enough, but he was getting antsy. He had questions. He had to hear Larry say everything. He had answers, but now he wanted more.

He stormed to Larry’s hotel room, ready for a fight. Ready to scream. Ready for something. He was charged up, emotional in all aspects. He was going to just let Larry have it.

When Larry answered the door, he looked shocked to see Sal. He was in an old Sanity’s Fall sweatshirt and boxers, obviously about to sleep. “Oh. Hey.” He had eyeliner smeared under his eyes, emphasizing his dark circles.

That was enough to set Sal off. “’Hey’? That’s it? ‘Hey’?!”

“Uh…yeah. What should I have said?” He frowned in confusion.

“Anything else!” Sal stormed past him into the room with shaking fists. “You can’t just shoot up, get sick for days and then avoid me!”

“Dude, are you high? What the hell did I do this time?” Larry closed the door and crossed his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Sal shoved him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” His words came out as broken sobs.

Larry didn’t flinch. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Why couldn’t you have told me?!” Sal shoved him again, this time hard enough for Larry to take a step back. He was crying now, fully, with heavy tears falls down his scarred cheeks. He felt them pooling in his prosthetic’s base, but refused to take it off. He didn’t want Larry to see him like that. He wanted Larry to talk.

“Told you what?!”

He fell against Larry’s chest and beat on it with his pale, bruised fists. “I could have helped you! We could have done it together!”

“Sal, what the hell are you talking about?!”

“Neil told me everything!” Those were the last words Sal could manage before he just leaned his forehead again Larry’s heart and cried.

Larry finally seemed to understand what was going on. He went completely silent. He put a hand on each of Sal’s shoulders. He propped his chin on Sal’s head. And he fucking lost it. Sal hadn’t heard him cry this hard in all the years he knew him. He was trembling, his whole body wracked with two years worth of sobs. Larry’s knees buckled, and Sal dropped with him. They both were on the floor of the motel, crying their eyes out, soaking each other’s shirts, grabbing on to each other like they were about to drown.

“I’m fucking sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Larry barely managed to form words around his sobs. They were feeling all the feelings they finally needed to feel. They finally felt the fear, the dark pit of pain, the intense leftover love. But above all? They felt a wave of relief. There was freedom in these sobs. It was magical.

They ended up both laying on the floor, heads by each other, facing opposite directions. They were still shaking, still crying. But they could at least talk. They at least calmed down enough to lay down and form genuine sentences.

“I’m sorry.” Larry would whimper every few minutes.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me, Lar?” Sal asked.

“I couldn’t. I can’t. I was scared. You try to fix everything, Sal. All the time. You’re a fixer. And you couldn’t have fixed this-“

“I could have helped your mom with money if that was the issue.”

“You don’t understand.” Larry shook his head. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. And I’m not going to take your money, dude. Ever.”

“I’m sorry, Larry.”

“Why the hell are you apologizing? I was the one that left you.”

“I’m sorry because I assumed the worst out of you for the last two years.”

Sal heard Larry start to sniffle again. “Sal, it was right of you to assume that. I was _gone._ I _disappeared._ ”

“I thought you cheated, honestly.” Sal giggled through his tears. “I thought you had found a really pretty girl and just, like, jumped at it.”

“No one is prettier than you.” Larry shook his head. “Cheating would have been, like, impossible.”

“Cheating would have been the only thing I couldn’t forgive. Everything else can be worked on.”

“Forgive?” Larry rolled over on to his stomach to face Sal. “Like what, forgive me?”

“Yeah. I would like to. Like start working towards it.”

“Don’t.” Larry shook his head. “Don’t forgive me. I did some really shitty stuff to try to separate myself from you. I…I don’t deserve forgiveness for a lot of the shit I said and did-“

“Neither do I.”

“Bullshit! You didn’t do anything!”

Sal rolled over. “I was an asshole back. I hit you, too. I was a bitch. And I won’t forgive what I can’t and you won’t forgive what you can’t. But…we can stop hating each other. Like, officially. And we can stop being so horrible. We can try to, like, be friends maybe? Or something?”

“Or something.” Larry tilted his head to look at Sal and smiled crookedly. “I can do Or Something.”

“I can do Or Something too.” Sal said.

Larry held up his pinky. “Or Something.”

Sal took it with his own. “Or Something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind words and your continued support! You all are too kind to me. I'm so happy you all are loving this story and this universe as much as I do. These boys have become so important to me in the last few months and I'm so happy that I can share that love with you all!
> 
> Also a BIG BIG thank you to everyone who's made videos or art inspired by this fic. It literally makes me cry. I'm so honored that anyone would feel compelled to do anything based off anything I do. It's just mind-blowing.


	12. Chapter 12

Everyone instantly noticed the change between the two.

Sal no longer gave a bitter side-eye every time Larry talked. Larry no longer looked like he was always thinking of the next biting comment. It was like a blanket of calm fell over both of them. They talked more, openly so, but they still avoided physical contact. It was like they were testing the waters, dipping their toe in the ocean and running back up into the sand because the water was still colder than they expected. But every day, they went a little deeper. Ankle deep, shin deep, knee deep.

Pretty soon, they would be submerged. And they would drown.

Larry would hand him his coffee before Sal even had to ask. Sal would mindlessly bring a second portion of everything he ate to Larry. There was an obvious distance, of course,  but it was no longer made of anger. Just sadness. And fear.

They exchanged phone numbers again, too. That was a big one.

There was an awkwardness over everything as well, though. A lot can change in two years. The last reference they had for being in each other’s lives was farther away than it felt. And they both were shaped by their hate and pain. They weren’t the same people they were before. Larry no longer took sugar or cream in his coffee. Sal had a completely new sanitization regimen for his prosthetic and face. Larry switched from Coke to Pepsi. Sal went up a shoe size. These things seem small, but it was a huge reminder that they had grown up without each other. It was something they never expected to happen.

Sal and Larry both instinctively winced whenever one of them moved their arm too fast or too close to them. Too many physical fights left them jumpy. There was an instinct to call each other bitter pet-names, and sometimes they would call each other a bastard or an asshole without meaning to and start to backtrack in a panic. Switching from fight-mode during public appearances to a more gentle behind-the-scenes demeanor was harder than they thought.

This was going to take some time.

Luckily, they had time. A handful of months until Screamfest. Who knows what would happen after, but they did have each other now. And they were going to try to end this tour in a better place then where they started it.

Larry started spending one on one time with Ashley and Todd as well. Maple less so, and Chug less so, but they were never exactly as close as the other four. Ash and Larry would spend time smoking weed and doing each other’s hair and trying to catch up on the last two years of bullshit. Todd and him did chores together, got work done together, and helped when each other were stumped on where to go with their newest music.

Sal and Larry couldn’t bring themselves to just ‘hang out’ though. Not quite yet. But they were better towards each other. And that was a beautiful start.

“I want this heatwave to _end.”_ Ash fanned herself with a trashy gossip magazine, sweating under sunglasses and a hat by the hotel pool. They had arrived in Dallas much sooner than expected, and had all collectively decided to rest up.

“Then get in the water!” Maple called, who was sitting on Chug’s shoulders, gearing up to play another round of chicken against Todd and Neil. Travis was swimming laps around them, avoiding the falling idiots around him.

“I just washed my hair, you will _not_ get me in there.”

“Fucking same.” Larry said. His hair was piled up onto his head in a bun, sunglasses on his face, sweaty body glistening in the light. Him and Ash lying next to each other looked just like two models, ripped straight from an LA travel ad. They were sharing a mimosa, passing trash magazines back and worth and commenting about the latest celebrity bullshit.

Sal was sitting in front of them in swim trunks and a tank top, not in a lounge chair but with his legs in the pool. He kept trying to find excuses to turn around and take a glance at Larry. The Texas heatwave wasn’t the only hot thing happening.

He rubbed his nose and lowered his glasses. “God, I’m dehydrated. Rockstar, can I steal your water?”

Sal tossed his bottle at him. “Get in the water, coward.”

“You get in the water!” Larry pointed at him. “Hypocrite!”

Travis swam over to the edge and propped his elbows next to the blue-haired boy. “You should get in, Sal. It’s nice.”

Sal kicked his feet in the water. “It really does. I just don’t want to deal with cleaning all of _this_ ,” he moved a hand around his face, “when I get out.”

“We don’t leave for the show for like, seven more hours. You have time.” Todd called over from Neil’s shoulders. That was enough time off-guard for Maple to tackle him and get him into the water.

“Unfair!” Neil was laughing while Todd resurfaced. He pulled Todd close to his chest and put his head on Todd’s. “Best eight out of fifteen?”

“Have fun losing! My wife has cat-liked reflexes.” Chug splashed water at them with a free hand. “It’s like dating an X-Men character.”

“Anyone is a superhero compared to you.” Ash said. “You have the reflexes of a fresh fucking baby.”

Sal threw his head back in laughter.

Travis couldn’t help but smile a little. “Come on, Sal. Get in. We can kick their asses.”

“If Sal wants to win, he needs someone taller than him. Unlike you, blondie.” Larry called, sipping his mimosa like a bitter old woman. “Stick to your laps.”

Sal took off his tank top and tossed it behind him, where it landed by Larry’s feet. He started to quickly pull his hair into a ponytail. “I’ll get in but I’m _not_ playing that! Not into that shit.”

Larry let out a heavy sigh and slowly stood up. “Ash, chug the mimosa in my honor. I’m getting in the fucking water.”

“Hell no!” Ash rolled up a magazine and slapped his leg with it. “I just helped you straighten your hair, you are _not_ going to fuck it up!”

Larry took off his sunglasses and tossed them at her. He smiled mischievously and backed up to the edge of the pool. He shrugged and help his hands up. “The things we do for love!” He stuck his tongue out at her and allowed himself to fall backwards into the water. He created a huge wave, splashing everyone around him, including Ash.

She let out a squeal and pulled her hat down further. “You asshole!”

When Larry resurfaced, pieces of hair had fallen out of his bun and were framing his face. Sal, smiling like an idiot, slid into the water gracefully.

“A fucking princess, I swear.” Larry shook his head.

“It took an _hour_ to straighten your bullshit mane!” Ash sounded like she had just been shot.

“Sal can help me tonight.” Larry waded closer to Sal in the water. “I can help with your face, you can help with my hair. We have a big old beauty party.”

“I do actually need to cut my hair, so that might work.” Sal couldn’t touch the bottom of the pool, being as short as he was, so he swam over to Larry and used one of his shoulders to support himself.

“You cut your own hair?” Travis asked.

“He doesn’t cut his hair, he mutilates it.” Ash said. “He uses kid’s craft scissors!”

“It makes it look cool!” Sal said. “Don’t beat it until you try it.”

Travis swam past Sal and Larry, smiling at the former and giving a weird look to the latter. “Whatever works, Sally Face.” He returned to his laps, once again having to avoid a falling Todd.

“This is just hard to watch!” Larry swam over to Neil, pulling Sal with him. “Neil, we’re switching. Let’s see if Todd can kick some ass if he’s a little taller. Babysit Sal so he doesn’t drown while I’m helping your boyfriend win.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Sal splashed Larry in the face.

Todd clambered onto Larry’s shoulders. “Don’t fuck this up, Johnson.”

“Trust me, I won’t. I’m here to win.”

Sal backed away to tread water at a safe distance with Neil. “This is going to end horribly!”

They watched Todd climb onto Larry’s shoulder, and then continue to lose to Maple again. And again. And again. Sal and Neil were losing it off to the side, and poor Larry ended up with a bloody nose.

“That right there is _exactly_ why I don’t play!” Sal had to hold on to the edge of the pool to support himself while laughing. “Jesus, Larry, clean up!”

Larry was laughing through the blood. Travis swam closer to Sal and whispered. “You know why he gets so many bloody noses?” He used a finger to close one of his nostrils and sniffed. “It makes your nose more fragile. It’ll take a while for the bleeding to stop.”  

That killed Sal’s laughter as quickly as it had started. “Wait, really?” No one else seemed to hear Travis, and no one else seemed to notice exactly how much Larry’s nose was bleeding. It made Sal cringe.

“This is what happens when you destroy my masterpiece!” Ash threw a towel at Larry as he climbed out of the pool. “Karma’s a bitch!”

“Here, Lar.” Sal pulled himself out of the pool. “Let’s go back to my room. I can do your hair and you can stop bleeding all over the damn hotel.”

“Back to your room, ay?” Larry wiggled his brows as he pinched his nose.

“Nevermind. Bleed to death.”

They walked back to Sal’s room dripping in chlorine, sweat, and blood that was just a bit too thin. The hotel towel Larry was using was completely destroyed. He hopped in the shower first, while Sal just picked at his fingernail polish and stared at him bare chest in the mirror by the room door.

He was back in his room at Addison Apartments, staring into his own mirror in his own room, staring at his own bare chest and blank face. Larry was behind him, in his bed, grinning at him. “I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.”

“What?”

“I don’t get why you’re so worried. We’re going to great.”

“I’m so nervous.” 

“You shouldn’t be!” Larry swung his legs around and pulled himself out of Sal’s bed. “You are a real rockstar. You’re everything. The audience is going to love you.” He wrapped arms around Sal’s waist and set his chin on Sal’s head. He pressed his bare chest against Sal’s back. “I can’t wait for the entire world to see you like I do.”

Sal looked down at his feet. “That’s so cheesy.”

“But I mean it!” Larry laughed. “Look at you.”

“I’m looking. And I see someone who isn’t ready for any of this.”

“I look at you and I see someone who’s going to change the world. You’re more than ready, Sal. If anything, I’m not ready for it. Without you, I wouldn’t even had picked up a guitar again.” He leaned down and turned Sal around so they were looking each other in the eye. “I love you, Sal. And you are going to kill this show.”

Sal blinked hard, and he was back at the hotel. The shower had just turned off. It was his turn to get his shit together.

“Sal!” Larry called from the bathroom. “Your shampoo smells amazing! Where the hell did you get it?” He turned the corner into the main area of the room. He had only a towel on his waist. “You look intense. Am interrupting something?”

“No. And I got it from Target.” Sal looked Larry up and down before walking passed him to the bathroom, where he locked the door and tried to shower quickly without thinking about how Larry looked in only a towel. It was a lot harder than expected to not think about how they used to shower together.

He got out of the shower, slipped back on his freshly-cleaned mask, threw on a pair of sweatpants he had brought with him and pulled his scissors out of his makeup bag. While his hair was still dripping, he started to hack at his bangs while leaning over the trashcan.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“It’s unlocked!”

Larry opened it, hair half-dry, dressed in Sal’s shirt and basketball shorts. “Hope you don’t mind I snatched your clothes. I didn’t bring any to the room.”

“I’m surprised you can fit.”

“Of course I can fit. These used to be mine.”

Sal did a double-take. Larry was right. He had a bunch of clothes in Sal’s closet that he had left when he disappeared. Sal burnt half of them in the back of his house, screaming at the night sky with Ash. He had burnt love letters, sheets of music, stuffed animals, all while sobbing and howling at the moon. Ash had burnt band shirts, polaroids, all the empty cigarette boxes with his doodles on them. They had destroyed almost everything he had left. But Ash kept one singular picture. And Sal kept some clothes to sleep in, when the nightmares got too bad.

“Just give them back.” His eye fluttered back to his hair, where he cut off another chunk.

“Hard at work? You look like you’re going to hurl, leaning over the trash like that.”

“I’m just trying to not get too much hair on the floor.” Sal bit his lip and snipped at his hair again.

“You really do use craft scissors still.” Larry leaned on the doorway. “I thought you would have grown out of that.”

“It’s the only thing that gives the perfect effect. Salons make it look too neat.” Sal pull another chunk of hair forward and chopped it away. “I like the mess.”

“Me, too.” Larry said. “It suits you.”

When Sal’s hair was just below his collarbones, he stopped. “Perfect. Now I don’t have to worry about it until, like, right after Screamfest.”

“Looking good, rockstar. Now, fix me.” He pulled a roller chair from the desk of the hotel to the bathroom.

Sal started to comb and separate Larry’s thick, dark hair into sections. It was long, just barely past his butt, and a beautiful wavy texture that Instagram girls would die for. His Spanish blood on his mom’s side gave him amazing genetics when it came to his locks. He liked it straight, though he could never get it perfect himself. Since the first day Sal met Larry, Sal had been put on hair duty. Twice a week during school, and once a week during the summer, Sal would straighten Larry’s hair in his cramped basement bathroom.

As Sal straightened each piece, he would comb it and took his time to run his fingers through Larry’s hair. “Still haven’t gotten it cut?”

“Not since freshman year. Going strong.” Larry leaned into Sal’s touch instinctively, his eyes fluttering shut and a peaceful small smile dancing on his lips.

“You’re like a fucking cat.” Sal smirked.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“I got it.” Sal walked out of the bathroom and opened to door to find Todd, fresh out of the shower, clutching his laptop. “What’s up?”

“I have an email from Red. Larry and you have a new job to do.” Todd said. His eyes took a moment to scan Sal’s bare chest. “Can I come in? Are y’all, like-“

“I’m just doing his hair. Shut up.” Sal’s face heated up. “Just come in.”

Todd joined Larry in the bathroom, propped up his laptop on the edge of the bath and sat in the empty tub. “You all have a very special assignment. You all need to write a brand new duet.”

“Why the hell do we need to do that?” Larry groaned. “I’m already struggling enough with my own album.”

“Because you two have been given a special spot on Friday of Screamfest on one of the side stages. A special request from Red himself

“So what’s going to go wrong then? Because I don’t trust him.” Larry reached up and pulled on his lip ring nervously.

“Nothing is going to go wrong. I’ll help you all mix it, if you want. The deadline for the label to approve it is December 1stso I would get cracking as soon as possible.” Todd said.

“Why doesn’t Red just send us something himself?” He said. “He has someone write basically sixty-five percent of our fucking albums, so why can’t someone ghost-write for us?”

“What, you don’t want to write with me?” Sal put a hand on his chest and feigned a dramatic sigh. “I’m wounded, Johnson. Simply wounded.”

“I don’t want to get behind on _another_ deadline.”

“Then get to work!” Todd said. “And look, worst case scenario? I have some of our first unpublished demos in a drive somewhere from like three years ago. I can find something for you all to cheat with, if necessary.”

Larry threw up a thumbs up. “That’s why I love you, Todd.”

“Well.” Sal said. “I, for one, am going to try to write something.” As he moved on to another section of hair, Larry leaned back into his touch.

“I’ll try. No promises on succeeding.” Larry grumbled. “I’ll start figuring some chords out. Maybe nail down some kind of concept.”

Sal look away from Larry’s hair and turned to Todd. “I have a concept idea. Tell me if it’s good, okay?” He looked at Larry out of the corner of his eye. “A song about coming home.”

“Coming home?” Todd raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Interesting. I don’t hate it. I would need to hear some examples first but nothing can be weirder than our song all about how good human flesh tastes.”

“Yeah, that one always threw me off.” Larry chuckled. “But coming home. I like it. I’ll start working on chords. Let’s figure it out.” He held his hand out for Sal to reach around a shake.

Sal smiled, took it and shook. "Let's write a song."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support! It's been awesome getting to talk to you all and give updates and discuss headcanons on Tumblr. I love it! And thank you for all the sweet comments and kudos here! It means so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> Chapter updates are going to slow down as I start school and the chapters get longer, meatier and more intense. I'll keep everyone updated through tumblr about when things will be posted!


	13. Chapter 13

Travis cornered Sal in the hallway of the venue a week later. “Hey, Sal.” He was looking down at his feet. Sanity’s Fall had just come off stage and he was covered in sweat and was shirtless.

 “Oh. Hey, Travis.” Sal smiled awkwardly under his prosthetic. He had been walking back to the green room to grab his guitar before getting ready to go on. “What’s up?”

“I know this is a bad time but the adrenaline is the only thing giving me the balls to ask this. Are you, like, with anyone? Or…I mean, are you single? Like what’s the deal with you and Larry?”

“What?!” He jumped back. “There’s no deal. I-I mean, I’m single. Totally single. What? Why? What?”

They hadn’t talked much that week. There had been no reason to. When they did talk, it was nice. Kind. Travis had been nothing but nice to Sal recently, but Sal didn’t assume a thing. They had danced together the last night they all went out, and that had been fun enough. And Travis had been helping him take care of his hands. And carry all his stuff. But maybe Sal was just an idiot, because he never saw this coming.

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out? Like on the next night off. Or during the day maybe? Me and you. Like a date.” He put his hand on the wall next to Sal’s head.

Sal’s obviousness had once again gotten him trapped inside a sinkhole.

He was only good at reading a handful of people: Ash, Todd, Lisa, Maple every few days, maybe Chug on a good day, and Larry. That meant that for most of his life, he lived oblivious to how people felt about him. He didn’t notice when people hated him, when people liked him, and especially didn’t notice when people had feelings for him. And now, for the first time since high school, he was having to deal with it.

Everything was happening too fast.

“A date?” He echoed. “Like a human date?”

“Yeah. Like next Wednesday? Like some food and just hanging out. Like, you know. A date.”

“A date.” Sal repeated.

“A date?” A third voice appeared behind Travis. It was Larry, because of course it was, standing over both of them. “Travis, let him go get ready. We have to go meet with the VIPs.”

“Can you give me a second?” Travis glared at him.

“Sal, go.” Larry pointed down the hall. There was an edge in his voice.

“What?”

“Sal. Leave. Now.”

“What the hell?” Sal cried. “You can’t tell me what to do.” Out of nothing else but spite, he turned back to Travis. “Yeah. Sure. Date. Whenever, whatever. We can talk later. I just need to get my shit and get on stage.”

“Awesome.” Travis still didn’t smile but his face did manage to get brighter. “I’ll, uh, text you?”

“You don’t have my number.” Sal slipped away from both Travis and Larry and gave them both an awkward wave. “DM me!” He called, before turning and bolting it for the green room door.

He slammed the door behind him and leaned against it. “Ash? Todd? I just got asked on a date. By Travis. And I’m going on a date. With Travis.” He was talking to quickly, his pulse was too high. What the hell was even going on?”

“A date? Like, a human date?” Ash furrowed her brow. “With Travis? Travis has human emotions? I thought he was all ‘ _Blah blah blah angst, blah blah blah sad’._ I’m a little proud of him, honestly.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “And you actually said yes?”

The blue-haired boy nodded. “I think I said yes. And I think it’s happening.”

“Are you…ready for that?” He asked.

Sal had only gone on one date after Larry left. It was a total disaster. They guy ended up being super deep into BDSM, and thought Sal was a fetish artist because of the mask. Sal had ended up hiding in the bathroom of a TGI Friday’s while Todd came to rescue him.

“Yeah. Maybe. We’ll see. Fuck it, just get me on stage! I want to just roll around and forget the last five minutes of my life is happening and then I can cry about it on a tour bus at three in the morning and everything will be okay.”

Ash couldn’t help but giggle. “Sal, you’re a fucking mess.”

“Get. Me. On. Stage.”

Getting on stage was a fine plan, for the moment. Maple had already been ready to go on, and when everyone else got there they started to have the time of their lives. But that only lasted for the Sally Face Killers personal set. Sal forgot that Larry had to join them, and Larry had to sing ‘Basement’ and ‘Welcome Home’ with him in front of too many people.

What Sal didn’t forget is that Larry didn’t just have a jealous streak. He had a jealous existence. Back in high school, he made it a habit to walk everywhere holding Sal physically in some way to make sure that every single person in the whole world knew that Sal was his. Sal had to admit he fucking loved it. But he certainly didn’t want to deal with it now.

Larry was extra-handsy. Larry was extra aggressive. Larry was going to make himself _known._ He couldn’t stop Sal from going on a date, he couldn’t stop Sal from doing anything. But he could remind Sal that he was here. If that’s all he could do, he would do it.

He picked Sal up, sang too close, touched almost every inch of him.

Sal enjoyed it, although he would never admit it to himself.

“So. You and Travis? Really?” Larry asked him in the Uber on the way back to the hotel. He was spread out, his legs across the backseat and over Sal’s lap. Sal was fiddling with his shoelaces mindlessly, barely staying awake. “Like actually Travis? Why?”

“Because I’m an adult and I can go on dates.” Sal said, almost pouting about it.

“Well, yeah. But Travis?” Larry raised an eyebrow at him. “A non-emotional cokehead? A former Jesus freak? A _Boy Scout?”_

“What about it?”

“It just doesn’t seem like your type.”

“What’s my type, Larry?” Sal crossed his arms on his chest. “What’s my type?”

“I don’t know! Not Travis.”

“That’s a dumb answer.” Sal said.

 The car went silent for a moment. Larry lifted his feet away from Sal and sat up straight. “I went on a date.”

 That peaked Sal’s interest. “With who?”

“Some random girl. Like early this spring. It didn’t exactly go smoothly. Turns out she knew who I was, but lied about it when we first chatted online. She had totally cyberstalked me to go on a date with me. It turned into a nightmare.” Larry looked out the car window.

 “Jesus.”

 “Yeah.”

 “Have you…been on any other dates?” Sal asked one thing, but him and Larry knew he meant another.

 “That was my first and only date since you.” Larry picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “I just haven’t found anyone else that seems as real.”

  The rest of the car ride was silent.

  The next few days held a little bit of awkwardness. The entire week they were moving through Texas felt like a rollercoaster, and the one day in Oklahoma was a merry-go-round. Sal and Travis passing each other in the halls of venues and by the buses now had weight to it, and it was a weight that Sal didn’t exactly want to bare. They had decided to go out on a Wednesday, in the evening after their buses had dropped them off at the next hotel in Wichita. The drive to the hotel from Oklahoma City was completely consumed by Ash and Todd trying to hype up Sal.

“This will be good for you. You’ll have fun.” Todd said. Sal’s mask lay beside him on th bed. His hands were balanced on Sal’s bare knees as he painted his nails. “If Chug runs through another pothole and I mess up my pinky again, I’m going to scream.”

  “I don’t want to go on a date.”

 “Then why are you doing it?” Ash asked.

  “…because I want to go on a date.”

 “So you want the feelings that come from a date, but not from Travis, and not from an actual date?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

 “Maybe?”

 She rolled her eyes. “Then why are you going on the date?”

Sal didn’t respond. He just stuck out his tongue and turned away to look out the mini window in Todd’s small bed. He watched all the farmland shining in the morning sun. “I might just be psyching myself out.”

“I never would have guessed.” Todd deadpanned. The bus went over a bump. “Fuck!”

“You’re getting polish on my legs!”

Ash tapped Sal’s plastic cheek. “Can I dress you up for the date?”

“No! I’m wearing comfort clothes and no one is going to stop me. I will literally go on this date in pajamas, bite me.”

He didn’t wear pajamas. But Ash didn’t dress him up. She helped, but so did Larry. Larry and her sat on a hotel bed, braiding each other’s hair, sharing a joint and a jumbo bag of gummy worms while vetoing every single outfit Sal tried on.

“It’s like you aren’t even trying.” Larry scoffed. “If you’re going on a date, at the very least wear a crop top. Or a necklace.”

“Not a necklace. A choker.”

“Not a choker. A collar.” Larry said. Him and Ash looked at each other, nodding like they had just discovered the meaning of life.

“You guys suck.”

Ash stuffed a handful of gummy worms in her mouth. “You’re just jealous we’re better at this date thing than you are.”

“How about this, okay?” Sal held up his favorite pair of red skinny jeans. “This is our compromise. I get to wear my shitty jeans, but you all get to decide my top.”

“And your collar!” Ash cried.

“…and my collar.”

Larry and Ashley decided on a muscle shirt. It would be hidden under a leather bomber jacket for most of the date, but it was the principle of the muscle shirt that made it worth it.

“I’m going to go toke up. I’ll be right outside so please show me the look before you head out.”

“For sure.”When the door closed behind Larry, Ash cleared her throat. “Sal. You’re an idiot.”

“I’m not going to talk about this.” He started to put his hair into his pigtails. “We are not going there right now.”

“You’re having your ex help you pick out a date outfit.”

“He volunteered! And we are not talking about this!”

“Sal!” Larry called through the hotel door. “Your suitor is here.”

Larry was right. Travis was here, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was standing in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette, dressed like he was in a Grease musical revival. His hair was slicked back, he had a leather jacket, and he was humming something as he leaned against a stranger’s car.

Larry leaned over to Sal. “He looks like a loser.” He whispered.

Ash giggled, leaning over the railing. “He looks like a virgin.”

“Travis!” Sal called down from the second floor balcony outside of his room.

Travis seemed to perk up, as much as he was able to, when he spotted Sal on the balcony above with the sunset glinting off his mask. “Hey!”

“You look…good.”

“Nice.” Larry whispered. “Now call him ‘darling’.”

“Fuck off!” Sal flicked him off. “Do I need to grab a jacket?” He called down. “Like…what are we doing?”

“Real smooth.” Ash whispered. Sal elbowed her in the arm, to which she responded by punching him back.

“Yeah, probably. We can do whatever you want. But like I don’t want you to get cold. Or whatever. Yeah.”

“This is a nightmare to watch.” Ash muttered.

“You’re telling me.” Larry sighed. He leaned back, pulling on the railing for support. “I told him about how much you love weird Asian food. He’ll take you somewhere nice. Just grab a jacket and go, dumbass.”

Ash smirked. “What else did you tell him?”

“That Sal is allergic to bananas, he’s scared of dogs and loves looking at the stars. Also that if he drinks too much milk after like midnight then he gets sick. I really did help him build the perfect date for you.” Ash and Sal both just stared at him for a second. Larry turned to hide behind his hair. “Look, at least I’m helping! Fuck off!”

Ash punched Larry’s arm. “Real subtle.” She turned to Sal and gestured towards the stairs. “Enjoy yourself.”

The date started off awkwardly. What else could they have expected? What was there to even talk about? How did they do this?

“So.” Travis started to try to take the lead. “You look nice. I’ve, ugh, already really liked the pigtails. But you look extra pretty tonight.”

“Thanks. I had no idea what to wear.”

“Neither did I. I was super lost.” Travis said. “It’s my first real first date in, like, two years.”

“Same. Well, more like seven. Wow. Seven years. Seven years without a proper first date. That sounds super pathetic out loud.” Sal laughed nervously.

“It’s not pathetic. It just makes me even more honored that you were willing to break that streak for me.”

They walked down the street from the hotel to the restaurant Travis had picked out. True to Larry’s word, he must have told Travis about how much Sal loves Asian food, because he chose a sushi bar lit by blue and purple neon signs. The colorful lighting cast heavy shadows on his sharp face, making Sal swallow hard. “Come on. This place apparently has, like, killer mochi.”

The dinner was surprisingly fun. Sal didn’t realize how much him and Travis had in common. They both loved cats, both had a secret soft spot for pop music, both loved the color purple. They both had never travelled out of the country, and both hated salads, and both couldn’t wait for the Oscars in February. Travis was the first person Sal had met who loved film almost as much as him. They both also had extremely distant fathers. Travis came from a super religious family, though, and that’s why his dad was distant. Sal’s dad just didn’t like to see him. Not since he didn’t go to college. That’s where Henry had drawn the line.

“Even now? Even while you’re making thousands and thousands of dollars travelling the country?”

Sal nodded. “He still thinks it’s not a real career and that I should be graduating college by now.”

“That’s so dumb.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Even though the dinner went well, Sal couldn’t help but feel like he was in a dream. Something was missing. It didn’t quite feel like a date, in the proper sense of the word. Perhaps he was being too uptight, or was expecting some kind of magical fantasy spark that just wasn’t reasonable to want in the real world.

But he had felt that spark before. He knew that the spark could really be felt. And it just wasn’t being felt.

“Let’s go back to my room.” Travis said, after handing the waiter his credit card. “We can smoke and see if the hotel has any good movie options on the TV.”

“What, there’s no romantic bullshit surprise? No roses? No shooting stars?”

“I don’t think you want the bullshit romantic stuff. I just want to spend time with you. That’s more important to me, anyway.”

He was right. Sal didn’t want the bullshit romantic stuff. At least not from him.

The walk back was much more fun than the walk there. They were laughing and joking, really enjoying themselves. Maybe loosened up by the promise of weed, maybe loosened up by the fantastic food maybe loosened up by the beer they drank at dinner. But none of it felt real to Sal still. No matter what.

Maybe the weed would help.

“I really liked dinner.” Sal followed Travis to his hotel door, shivering a bit in the evening breeze. “And thanks in advance for letting me light up a bit with you.”

“Of course, man. I have plenty of weed to go around. Just ask, and I can get you anything.”

Within minutes, they were both sharing Travis’ vape pen and giggling over something stupid. Sal’s jacket was thrown somewhere, Travis’ jacket was dropped on the floor. They both were getting a tad sloppy.

“You’re really talented, Sal. I really can’t wait to see where you go.” Travis said suddenly. His kind words appeared out of nowhere, and Sal was too out of it to process them properly.

“That’s actually really sweet of you to say.” Sal sat down on the bed and scooted up to be closer to the headboard.

Travis sat down on the edge. “You’re the only one with any sex appeal up there. You’re the one that gives it your everything.”

Sal leaned back into the pillows. “I’m glad that someone here appreciates what I do for this band.”

“You’re really hot on stage.” Travis whispered lowly, getting closer and closer to Sal on the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His hand found its way to Sal’s arm, then his waist. Travis’ nose was buried in Sal’s neck, where he started to slowly kiss and nip at blushing pink skin.

“What about the movie?” Sal giggled breathlessly. “We haven’t even turned the TV on yet.”

“It can wait.”

Sal didn’t hesitate to help Travis shed his shirt and pull down his pigtails. He didn’t expect anything to go this way, but he wasn’t complaining. The last time he had done anything was when he was fucked by Larry in the tour bus, with his hair being pulled like handlebars and drool dripping from is mouth. It was quick, it was sweaty, it was desperate and loud and angry. Travis, though, moved slowly. With skill. With this gentle kind of care. It wasn’t exactly what Sal was into, but it had been close to two months since the last time he had gotten any action.

It had been way too long.

He helped Travis take off his shirt next, and he moved his hands up and town Travis’ torso. His skin felt tough, and Sal could count every single rib on his torso. His body felt oddly cold, oddly dry. It wasn’t what Sal had been used to. Sal was used to heavy heat, burning heat, something shocking and unique. Travis just felt like…a person. A simple person.

Travis’ hands ran up Sal’s stomach and danced over his pale skin, sending a shiver through his bones. He let out a tiny gasp, which only encouraged Travis to keep fluttering his fingers over Sal’s chest. Sal couldn’t help but moan as he grazed over his nipples, but he jerked back away from Travis. “Too sensitive. Not there.” He was having trouble forming words. He was enjoying himself. Or at least he thought he was. But something was off.

Travis spoke breathlessly by Sal’s ear. “Whatever you need, love.”

That word made his chest hurt. He didn’t like that word.

The blonde boy’s hands moved down, where he gently gripped a pair of sharp hipbones and lifted them so he was grinding himself against Sal’s tight jeans. Sal’s head fell back against the pillows, his eye shutting tightly. “Fuck.”

“I want to kiss you.” Travis whispered. “Can we, uh-“

“Fuck it.” Sal reached behind him and unbuckled his prosthetic, his eye still closed. “Just don’t stop.” He tossed his prosthetic aside. He kept his eye shut, not wanting to see Travis’ face. But he didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop edging Sal along, which at least meant he wasn’t disgusted. Sal was surprised to feel Travis’ lips on his, and he started to kiss back with vigor, desperate for some sort of release.

They kept kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths as Travis pinned down Sal’s arms and bit his bottom lip. Sal arched his back and hissed from the pain, but it only made him push against Travis’ bulge harder, faster. Travis kissed Sal again, this time more deeply, parting his lips with his tongue.

Then, suddenly, Sal was back in the treehouse. He was making out with Larry in the fall, a breeze making his skin prickle with goosebumps. He was in Larry’s lap, straddling him, holding his face and lightly pulling his hair as they clashed tongues and teeth. Sal let out a yelp when Larry moved his hands down to grip his ass.

“You’re cute.” Larry giggled into Sal’s mouth. He squeezed again and Sal let out another little hiccup. “Super cute.”

“You’re annoying. Super annoying.” Sal buried his face into Larry’s neck.

“You can’t be shy with me, Baby Blue.” Larry took the opportunity to lean back against the wall and just hold the small angel in his arms. “I’ve seen you at your absolute worst. You can’t embarrass yourself with me.”

“But this is all new to me.”

“It’s new to me too.”

“But you’re _good_ at it.”

Larry laughed. “Oh, please. You know you’re a little sex god in the making. You’re a right-old James Dean. But, like, hella shorter.”

“We need to go meet Todd soon. We have a chemistry project to finish.”

Larry looked at him through half-lidded eyes and leaned in. “Sal, we have our _own_ chemistry project to finish. It’s going to be really long and hard, and we have a really tight deadline, so I think we need to spend some extra time working on it.”

“I hate dating you!” Sal screamed with laughter and pushed himself out of Larry’s arms. “That was so gross!”

Larry, roaring with laughter, grabbed Sal’s waist and pulled him close. “I can’t wait to pull that shit every single day with you.” He took Sal’s chin and pulled him up into a rough, sloppy kiss.

Sal opened his eye when the kiss broke, and he felt a sudden jolt of fear when he saw blue eyes instead of brown. He couldn’t help but let out a scream and lift his knee to shove the Not-Larry off of him. It took a few moments to remember where he was, and what was going on. Travis was staring at him from the end of the bed in total shock. He had been so deep in his memories that he forgot who he was trying to fuck.

“Fuck.” Sal backed up until he was against the headboard. “Fuck.” He brought a hand to his throat, desperately trying to catch his breath.

“This isn’t going to happen.” Travis backed up away from Sal to sit on the edge of the bed.

Sal’s lip was trembling. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I just-“

“Still love Larry.” Travis grabbed his cigarettes off the bedside table and pulled one out. “I’m not judging you, dude. I get it. I was the Larry in my last relationship.”

“…What do you mean?”

“I left.” He pulled out his lighter. “I left because my dad found out I was gay and I just could not fucking handle that shit. He nearly killed me when he found out the music I listened to, let alone that I like a dick up my ass.”

“That’s a valid reason.” Sal pulled a pillow against his bare chest. He still couldn’t catch his breath.

“It would have been a valid reason if I had told my boyfriend when and why I was leaving. But I didn’t. Because leaving your lover is one thing, but having to tell them you’re leaving is another. Having to watch them cry. Having to know you’re ruining everything. I would rather run, like a coward, and join a band. It’s not right, but it’s the option that doesn’t make us want to die.” Travis leaned back on his elbows with his cigarette hanging off his bottom lip. “You’re beautiful, Sal. I don’t think I would have been strong enough to do what Larry did.”

“Strong enough?” Sal scoffed.

“Yeah. I was barely strong enough to do it. Leaving the most important thing in your whole life to protect the people you love? If I had stayed, my dad would have killed my boyfriend and then me. I know that. And if Larry had stayed, then your career would have been ruined and his mother would still be living in those shitty apartments. He bought her a house last year. He’s changing her life.” Travis ashed his cigarette onto the carpet and stomped on the ashes with his bare foot. “I like you, Sal. A lot. If you ever need anything, ask. I just hope Larry doesn’t fuck this up.”

“He already has.”

“Which means he won’t again.” Travis shrugged.

“He doesn’t love me.” Sal said.

That made Travis laugh. “Oh, yes, of course. You’re right. He isn’t totally obsessed with you.”

“He’s not!”

“Sal, he helped me plan this fucking date. He’s like an encyclopedia full of Sal Fisher’s bullshit.”

Sal looked down at his bare feet on the comforter, bruised and blistered, pale and boney. He thought for a moment while wiggling his toes. “Can we not tell anyone? About how, like, I failed?”

“You didn’t fail. You just know what you want.”

“But we can’t tell anyone. I don’t want anyone to know how this date went. Promise?”

Travis reached out his hand for Sal to shake. “Scout’s Honor.”

Sal said goodbye to Travis and started to walk around the perimeter of the motel. He would have stayed the night, just because he was having a fun time, but he didn’t want to give Travis any expectations he couldn’t live up to. Plus, Ash wasn’t going to go to bed until Sal came back and sat with her on the bed and spilled _everything._ So it was better to leave Travis alone.

Sal walked along sidewalk to the outdoor stairs. The gentle breeze ruffled his pigtails. It slipped under his leather jacket and made his skin prickle with goosebumps.

It could have been better. He could have done better. He thought he was better.

He heard the sound of an acoustic guitar the closer he got to the stairs under his room. It was peaceful, soft. It made him tired instantly.

“ _Wise men say…only fools rush in. But I can’t help, falling in love with you.”_

A deep voice floated from under the stairs. When he got closer, he saw Larry with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a guitar propped on his lap. He was singing gently, his eyes were downcast and his hair was spilled around him like a chocolate waterfall.

“Seriously?” Sal called out. “Elvis?”

Larry’s head jolted up. His cigarette fell into the dirt. “Shit! You scared me. I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone. I was just trying to figure out some inspiration for our little duet.” He looked flustered, his nose and cheeks a deep pink. His face warped into a mischievous grin. “How did the date go, rockstar?”

“It happened.” Sal shrugged. “I lived. It wasn’t bad.” He didn’t mention how every single time Travis did anything, he could only think about how Larry would have done it better.

“So what now? Stopping by the room to get some lube and a vibe?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Fuck off. It’s bedtime for me, man. We have a meet and greet first thing in the morning.” Sal started up the stairs, he barely reached the first flight when Larry started to strum on his guitar again. He paused. After a surge of bravery, he turned around and sang along. “ _Take my hand. Take my whole life too. For I can’t help-“_

Larry joined in. “ _Falling in love with you.”_ He continued to strum gently while both boys stared at each other. He was the one to break the silence. “You skipped a few verses.”

“Well, that one is my favorite.”

Larry looked down at his guitar with a distant expression. Real emotions were on the surface, then they disappeared like a ghost. He looked at Sal with a comical glint in his eye. “So you’re singing Elvis with me now? We’re singing Elvis together? That’s pretty gay.” He smirked. “Do you like me, rockstar?” He winked. “How scandalous.”

Sal continued to stare at him, but didn’t answer. Just because he admitted it to Travis doesn’t mean he had to admit it to anyone else. “I’m going to bed. Keep it down.” He walked up the rest of the stairs to his room alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter updates are going to slow down after this now that I'm in school, am starting two new jobs and all that big boy adult fun. But no matter how long updates take, this fic is NOT abandoned! It will be 100% completed by the end of February at the latest! I pinkie swear!
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos and the fan art and the TikToks and UGH. It means so much to me. I never imagined to have this type of support and I'm so happy you all are enjoying the story. Thank you!


	14. Chapter 14

 “It’s finally cooling down. Thank fuck.” Chug fanned himself with his hand. “This bus does _not_ have the air conditioning it deserves.”

The autumn arriving meant Halloween. Which was both the best day of the year for the Sally Face Killers and one of the weirdest nights of the year for Sally Face himself.

Halloween had always made him feel safe. When he was a child, he could walk around that night with every other kid and not be called weird or scary. He was just in a mask like the rest of them, and he even got extra candy sometimes for ‘being so creative’. People would always try to guess his ‘costume’, and it got to the point where Sal would just nod and say yes to anything people assumed. Jason? Sure. Michael Myers? Totally. Texas Chainsaw Massacre? Why not. IT? A little bit of a stretch, but of course.

It also marked the day when Larry finally, finally, finally took him on his first proper date. It had been a bit chilly, and Sal had been reeling still from their first kiss a few nights prior. Being juniors, they had both been invited to a few bullshit Halloween house parties. But they chose to be together that night instead. And Larry had chosen a unique Asian restaurant, and took Sal to a viewing of an old zombie movie at the local drive-in. Ash let him borrow her truck and everything.

They kissed under the stars and the bright shining moon, the light from both framing them both like they were straight out of a painting. Sal’s skin looked like marble, and Larry’s arms held him tightly, safely. Nothing could touch them. They were deities of the night, and nothing was going to stop them.

The next Halloween, Larry and Sal handed out candy with Ashley and Todd to the kids in Ashley’s neighborhood. Somehow, Ashley had convinced everyone to dress up like the Addams Family. Larry was dead-set on having him and Sal be Gomez and Morticia, but Sal claimed Wednesday and bought the dress online before they could even blink. So Todd and Ashley were Gomez and Morticia, and Larry was Cousin It.

The following year, Sal was living with Larry in the basement apartment while in the process of moving into Todd’s townhouse. They volunteered at the local library’s Halloween fair. They ran the dunk tank, and for just five dollars you could send a poor soggy Larry into freezing dirty water. It was for charity, so Larry couldn’t say no. Sal enjoyed collecting the money a little too much. At the end of the night, when Sal opened the door to let Larry out, Larry pulled him into the water and they made out while Todd awkwardly cleaned up cups and candy wrappers around them.

As an adult, though, Halloween meant that the Sally Face Killers were a hot commodity. They were considered a spooky band, all thanks to Sal’s face and Sal’s dark-as-hell lyrics, and for the last two years that had meant the week before Halloween being _packed._ Show after show, party after party.

This year was no different. Red had allowed the bands to perform separately this week, in order to let the Sally Face Killers hit all the spots in Colorado that they physically could. Sanity’s Fall was just on break, a nice week-long nap time. Meanwhile, Sal and Todd were sliding across the stage covered in fake blood, meeting with fans who were in full costume, and taking pictures of people who came to the show dressed as Sally Face himself. They were starting meet and greets in the afternoon, finishing shows in the light of the early morning sunrise and then doing it all over again. This is what they lived for.

What Sal _didn’t_ live for was coming back in the mornings to a Larry who was drunk at 9AM, devouring the free hotel breakfast, dissolving molly in his orange juice with Travis.

“You’re embarrassing yourself!” Sal would hiss, taking away Larry’s third plate of waffles and tossing it into the garbage.

Larry would just pout back. “You’re never here anymore. I get bored.”

“It’s been like two days.”

“They feel like forever.” He laid his head on the hotel table and used his hair to cover his face. “Fuck you.”

“You’re gross and you’re sad and you need a hobby.” Sal would sound angry, but he would pet Larry’s hair and help him walk to his room and sleep in the hotel bed while Larry played the guitar sloppily on the floor.

After a week of cleaning up after a drunk Larry, a week of Todd washing off fake blood with a hose, a week of Ash posing with Sally Face cosplayers, a week of Travis going out and partying alone, a week of Maple disappearing out of nowhere, and after a week of Sal staining his mask with the lipstick of fans at meet and greets, it was finally Halloween.

Halloween meant everyone performing together again. Which meant everyone getting shitty food together in the green room a few hours before going on stage. Halfway through their messy fast food dinner, Maple stood up and lead Ashley out of the room. A few minutes later, the whole group could hear Ash screaming in the hall.

“What the fuck?” Larry said through his burger.

“Well, fuck. I guess it’s time.” Chug sighed and put down his soda.

“What?” Neil looked at Todd. Todd just shrugged back.

Both girls walked back in, absolutely glowing.

“We have some very exciting, very special Halloween news.” Maple said, her arm around Ash’s waist. “I’m super nervous to say this, because I have no clue what it means for the band, but-“

“We’re pregnant!” Chug blurted out.

“Both of you? Huh. Learn something new every day.” Larry grinned.

“Wait, actually?” Sal brought his hands up to cover his plastic mouth. “Holy shit! Holy shit, you’re having a human baby?!”

Maple hugged Ash closer and nodded. “I’m three months along.”

Sal ran forward and wrapped his arms around Maple’s shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re pregnant. Oh my god.”

Larry smirked and subtly fist-bumped Chug. “Nice one, daddy.”

“We’re due in March. Which is super scary.” Chug said. “It’s so soon.”

“Is your baby going to be a Pisces?” Travis frowned.

“Are you being serious right now? Like actually?!” Larry flicked Todd on the back of the head. “Fuck you, man!”

“An Aries, actually.” Maple held her stomach proudly. She was barely showing, but just the idea of her having a baby in her made them all focus only on her tummy.

“You’re growing a human.” Sal kneeled down. “Can it, like hear us? Because a lot has happened these last three months and I want to apologize to it.”

“Stop calling the baby an it!” Ash cried.

“If it’s a boy, I expect him to be named Lawrence Johnson the Second. After me. The best singer to ever be born ever.” Larry leaned back in his seat.

“We’re leaving the gender and all that shit to be a surprise.” Chug said. “We want it to be like really fun gambling.”

“Ashley is a lovely girl name and I expect you to remember that when your vagina is being ripped open in March.” Ash kissed Maple’s cheek. “I’m so happy for you, honey.”

“If you need anything, seriously just ask.” Sal was still kneeling and leaning towards Maple’s stomach.

“Sal. Personal space.” Ash poked him on his plastic cheek. She turned to Larry and pointed. “Now that you all did your business, we need to go do ours. Johnson, come on.”

Larry stood up to leave, but not before jokingly bowing to Maple. “Thank you for your service!”

“Fuck off!” Ash grabbed his shirt and dragged him with her.

“Where are they going?” Travis looked at Sal. “Get off her stomach, dude.”

Sal stood up and walked towards Travis. “It’s just so weird, dude. A human baby.” He watched Maple sat down by Chug. They started to whisper eagerly, smiling like crazy.

“Are you always weird about shit like this?”

“Yes. Literally all the time.” Sal chuckled and sat next to Travis on the couch. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Travis leaned back and looked Sal up and down. "You look nervous."

"I'm not nervous. Just a little-"

"Nervous?"

Sal looked down at his lap. "...Yeah."

"Because of him?" Travis pointed at the door that Larry had just left out of.

Sal didn't respond. “Ash is doing Larry’s makeup for tonight.”

“Why?”

“It’s Halloween, dummy.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Halloween is stupid. This Halloween show will be stupid.”

This Halloween show was not stupid.

The show was loud, scary, violent, everything anyone could have ever hoped for. Sanity’s Fall played first, and Sal got to watch a shirtless Larry with his face painted like a skull move around on stage like the devil himself. It made him practically drool. Larry was standing over the crowd, silhouetted by lights and devoured by music, a demon of death and heavy metal.

“You look embarrassingly happy right now.” Ash giggled quietly to him in the wings.

Sal elbowed her. “You know me, Ash. I have a thing for haunted house makeup.”

“Because you’re a freak.”

When Larry got off stage, him and Travis ran past the Sally Face Killers so quickly that Sal barely got a word in. “Sorry, we have to go!” Larry called over his shoulder. “Travis fucking found us a _designer dealer!_ We’re getting fucking one hundred percent, baby!”

Travis and him cheered and high-fived before running out the back door of the venue.

Ash pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’re going to fucking die tonight.”

“One hundred percent? Like, pure coke?” Todd sounded genuinely worried, which instantly scared Sal. Todd never got scared unless it was necessary.

“That could stop their hearts.” Neil appeared from behind them, putting an arm around Todd.

“Well, we should stop them!” Sal cried. “Why are we letting them do it?!”

He rolled his eyes and clutched Todd closer. “Because I’ve tried telling them no. It just makes them sneakier.”

“At least they’re telling us about it so we can have the EMTs on speed-dial.” Todd leaned into Neil’s touch.

“This is bullshit.” Sal said.

“Yeah. It is.” Neil sighed. He looked down at Todd and smiled. “I’m excited to see you perform. You look cute.” Todd had heavy eyeliner on and a bloody tank top. He did indeed look cute. But Sal didn’t notice. Sal was too focused on the image of Larry, coke on his nose and lips, lying on a metal table.

Their set went perfectly. Ashley poured blood over Todd and Sal during the intro song, and from there it was a total raw, grisly mess. The venue had let them lay down a tarp so they could quite literally roll around in blood during their numbers. Todd was nearly naked by the end of the first half of their set, covered in red and only kept decent by his boxers. Sal was in a similar position, with pigtails stained purple and no shoes in sight.

When Larry came on stage, Sal and the audience were both shocked that he still kept his shirt on. For once, he was the most clothed on stage. That didn't stop him from diving onto the tarp, bathing himself in blood.

Larry stood up, dripping in fake blood, whipping his matted hair to the beat. He moved closer to Sal, advancing on him like a predator. His stomach dropped, and instinctively he bit his lip. This might be the number one thing he missed about Halloween. Sal wasn't joking when he said that he thought haunted house makeup was extremely hot.

Halfway through their first song, during Ash's solo, Larry leaned in close. “Do you see that?” He pointed into the crowd. Sal followed his finger with his eye and landed on a poster, black and red with hearts and glitter. It said ‘LARRYFACE’ in giant bubble letters.

“What is it?” Sal looked up at him.

Larry was grinning like an idiot. “It’s us.”

“What?!”

Larry didn’t have time to answer before he pulled his mic back to his lips and singing his heart out. He walked to the edge of the stage, pointed at the girl with the sign and winked. Her and her friends let out insane screams.

Sal walked up behind him, and although he didn’t fully understand, he gave a little wave to the girls before slamming down on his knees in the blood to shred out his final solo of the night. Larry leaned down and kissed the top of Sal’s head, making the crowd let out bellowing cries.

“I’m going to get you back for that!” Sal yelled over his guitar.

“Threat or a promise?” Larry winked.

“A vow.” Sal played the last note and flicked him off.

When they walked off stage, Sal grabbed Larry’s shirt. “Hey, fucker. What was that Larryface shit?”

“You should read fan blogs more often. Because we’re kind of trending.” Larry winked and started to walk off. “See you at the hotel, dude. I’m going to kiss a few fans and sign some shirts.”

After everyone returned to the hotel, and Todd had used a garden hose to shower his bandmates, a soggy Sal sat on the curb outside the hotel. He had been trying to write lyrics. He had managed to get a few words done, a few lines that he was proud enough of, but his main focus was on the Halloweens of the past.

He was focused on Larry carving pumpkins with Ashley’s younger brother, both of them swaying to the music of Sal’s guitar on the porch. He was focused on hanging up lights for the school’s Halloween dance in detention, the community service that Larry and him had earned for skipping class to play poker on the roof. He was focused on how excited Larry looked when he dragged Sal into the dunk tank, catching him in the water, telling him how beautiful he looked when he laughed.

“Hey, Sal.”

Sal was yanked from his thoughts by a gentle voice behind him. “Oh. Hey, Neil.”

Neil sat down next to him. “Why are you still out?”

Sal shrugged. “I don’t know.” He knew. “I just like watching the last few kids pass, I guess. I didn’t know we were close to a neighborhood. I used to love giving candy to trick-or-treaters.”

“That’s sweet. I’m surprised there are still kids out at two in the morning.”

“Some kids are late. I think it’s cool. I would have gone trick or treating this late if my dad let me.

“Did you work on some new stuff?” He pointed at the notebook Sal was holding against his knees.

Sal nodded.

“That’s good.” Neil paused for a second. “You’re worried about Larry and Travis, aren’t you?”

Sal nodded again.

“Me, too. We all are. Don’t tell anyone this, okay? But after ScreamFest, we’re going to hold an intervention. We want them to spend the two months off in rehab.”

Sal put his chin on his knees. “That’s good. Could I actually come to that?”

Neil put a hand on his shoulder. “Of course, dude.”

“I like both of them too much to have to deal with one of them dying.” Sal huffed.

“To be fair, Travis would probably be the first to go. He’s been at the shit since high school. If anyone’s heart is going to stop, it’ll be his.”

“But that means Travis knows his limits. Larry doesn’t.” The blue-haired boy clutched onto one of his pigtails. “Fuck, it gives me so much anxiety.”

A group of kids walked passed, one of them pointing at Sal. Their parent hurried them along.

“After ScreamFest. Literally the day after. No matter what happens. We’re going to make sure they’re safe.”

Sal groaned. “I’m excited to spend my birthday convincing them to go to rehab.”

“Woah! Cool mask, ma’am!” A kid called from across the street. Sal just waved back.

“You take that surprisingly well.” Neil said.

“He’s a kid. He doesn’t know better.” Sal shrugged. “Thanks for checking on me. It was…actually super sweet. I’ve got to join Ash now, she’s probably super confused as to why I’m not back yet.”

“No problem, dude. I’m here for you.”

They both stood up, fist-bumped, and went their separate ways out the outdoor hallways to their motel rooms. Sal could hear Ash and Larry talking on the balcony hallway above as he approached. Clouds of smoke rose from their spots. He smiled, excited to show Larry these lyrics he had just finished. Excited to talk to him about anything, everything. Excited he hadn’t snorted the new blow yet. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard their conversation clearly.

“How did it feel? To watch Sal go on a date?”

Sal clutched his notebook to his chest as he heard Larry laugh. “The second I watched them walk off? I went back to my room and enjoyed a nice snowcap.” He saw Larry’s smoke pour off the balcony. “I kept the ring, you know. The one I was planning on buying Sal. I bought it after I left one night when I was drunk. And I still have it. It reminds me of the future that could have been. Should have been.”

“Have you told him that you still love him?”

Sal’s heart stopped.

“I think it’s obvious.”

“It’s not to him. You know how dense he is with flirting, Lar.”

Larry laughed. “Fair, fair. But Ash? I don’t think I’m ever going to tell him. I just…I can’t keep holding him back. I can’t be this sad, pathetic tumor in his life. If he ends up with Travis, whatever. If he ends up with any other guy, whatever. I had my chance and I blew it. I have to start accepting that.”

“I don’t know.” Ash said softly. “I don’t know about that. It’s obvious he still loves you, too.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s just confused. I don’t deserve any of his love.”

Sal was completely frozen under them. He was tempted to make himself known, to interject, to do _something._ But he stayed still. He didn’t do anything. He watched a cigarette butt fall from the balcony. He watched a blob of spit fall next to it, and then the sad paper end of a joint join it.

“You all will figure it out. Soulmates always end up together.”

“You’re right. I hope Sal’s is nice to him.” Larry sighed. “That man will have a reckless, idiot angel on his hands. He better be good to him.” He sniffled. “Sal is going to get married to a beautiful guy in a beautiful suit and have beautiful kids and a beautiful music career. He deserves every single second of it. And I’ll be here. And I’ll cheer him on. And I’ll die of a tragic overdose in the back of a bus, alone.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Ash said. “Come on. It’s time to go to bed. Sal will be back soon and you don’t want him hearing you saying shit like that. He’ll start to worry. He’s already terrified about your little…vices.”

“Vices is a really cute way of saying ‘the addiction that leads to a slow and painful death’.”

Sal heard footsteps on the stairs and started to panic. He whipped out his phone and too awkwardly, too stiffly cried out. “Yeah, cool! I’ll talk to you tomorrow!” He pretended keep talking as he started up the stairs to ‘accidentally’ meet Larry halfway. He pretended to hang up, looking up and making eye contact with him. “Oh. Hey, Lar.” His heartbeat was so loud he was convinced Larry could hear it.

“Hey, rockstar.” Larry smiled at him as he passed. He still had his makeup on, and it made Sal’s throat close up. He looked so dark and handsome in the moonlight. “I’m heading to bed. Catch you on the bus. We have a lot of mixing to do.”

“See you then.” Sal watched him pass. His eyes followed Larry’s giant mane as it swayed while he walked away. He was whistling something, but Sal couldn’t place it. Whatever it was, it would be a song that would haunt him forever.

It was time to shut up and face the music.

He still loved Larry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the support and kind words! And thank you for being patient with updates! You guys are the best <3


	15. Chapter 15

A storm rolled in after October ended. A bad one. A tornado one. One that made them have to cancel a show for fear of driving in it. They were trapped in a hotel in the edges of Wyoming. Luckily for Sal, his solo room was between Larry’s and Travis’, and across the hall from Ash and Todd’s. Unluckily for Sal, he had a solo room. And was terrified of storms.

The rain poured down onto the hotel, knocking out the power every few minutes and filling the rooms with only lightening. Apparently, the bassist and primary guitarist of Sanity’s Fall were having a leak in their room upstairs. And Travis had a large tree that kept hitting against his window. Ash had taken a few melatonin gummies to get through it, so she was dead asleep and useless. Todd and Neil were spending the night together, renting an extra secret room so that Red wouldn’t catch word of them sharing a bed.

Sal, with all the cowardice and shame he could muster, ended up deciding to go stay with Larry. But not before Larry showed up at his door first. “I brought weed and Oreos.” He held up his little plastic bag like it was a childhood art project that he was proud of. He was smiling like an idiot.. The hallway lights above him flickered, emphasizing the hollows of his cheeks.

Sal rolled his eye and snatched the bag of out his hands. “Let’s get through this.”

They both passed Larry’s vape back and forth while destroying the pack of Oreos in less than ten minutes. Weed and anxiety can make a pair of growing boys very hungry. It didn’t take long for the sugar high to hit them, and then subsequently the proper THC high they both were chasing. It instantly made the sounds of the thunder duller, and the lightening less scary.

Larry was headbanging to music that wasn’t there. “God, I’m fucking hungry. I’m sleepy. No, I’m just hungry.” He threw his head back in laughter. “I’m using fucked up on coke and weed. It’s been a while since I just went straight toke and it’s pretty sick.”

“Your vape is pretty strong.”

“Yeah. I get expensive shit. Like that magical fucking one hundred percent.” Larry clapped. “God, Travis is good. He knows how to get the rare stuff.”

Sal faltered. “Did you snort it? The pure shit?”

“God, no! That’s saved for Screamfest! That’s the good shit, I’m not going to waste it here in a shitty hotel in the outskirts of fucking Colorado. “

 “That’s…good. I think.” The blue-haired boy nodded.

“I can’t wait for Screamfest, dude. I can’t wait to meet everyone. And see everyone. And just…be there, man. Remember when we used to sit in my shitty old apartment and watch the livestreams? Remember when we were excited about getting to maybe go _watch_ one day? We’re fucking in the show, dude. Fuck.” Larry smiled crookedly.

“Hell yeah, dude.” Sal couldn’t help but smile at that. “We really are out here making it happen.”

“We have _fans,_ dude. People just like us who are sitting in their shitty rooms with their friends looking at us the same way we used to look at everyone else. Fuck.”

“I did some reading on the fanblogs like you said.” Sal giggled. “Larryface is so fucking insane.”

“Totally, right?”

Larryface is what the fans had decided to call them. Well, at least the fans that thought they were secretly dating. They had who analysis videos detailing out  their behavior, whole sites just of fanfiction, pages and pages of shipping edits. They were dead-on about a lot of things, including the theory that they had probably been engaged to each other but something mysterious had happened. It was surreal. For the first time in a long time, Sal felt exposed to the public eye in a disturbing way. Luckily, the rest of the fans continued to shut those shippers down. Not too much information made it’s rounds. ‘Shipping real people is gross’ was a popular motto. It was fair point to make, but the fact the shippers were correct did make it a different story.

“I’m going to keep playing with all those guys at concerts. You don’t understand how happy they get when we acknowledge them.”

“Fair. It doesn’t hurt to be nice.” Sal took another hit off Larry’s vape. “I’m freezing.”

Larry took off his sweatshirt and tossed it as his face. “Enjoy.”

The second he put it on, he was overwhelmed with Larry’s scent. It made his head spin. It was still warm, too warm, heating from the brunette’s inhuman body heat. “We should put on a movie.” Sal said, hoping Larry didn’t notice him take a deep inhale of the pine-scented sweatshirt.

“Dude, we should try shotgunning.” He said suddenly.

“What do you mean ‘try’?” Sal scoffed. “We did that shit for years.”

“Yeah, but I miss it. And Travis isn’t good at it.”

“…You tried it with Travis?” Sal started to laugh.

Larry got flustered. “Look, at least I didn’t go on a date with him, okay?”

“Did you fuck Travis?”

 “I did not fuck Travis! We just like shotgunned a little.”

“That’s super gay, dude.”

“We were both buzzed, it was nothing.” Larry rolled his eyes. “Did _you_ fuck Travis?!” He asked accusingly.

“I did _not_ fuck Travis!” Sal squealed. “The date went really well, though. Thanks for telling him where to take me to eat. Because wow, that food was good.”

Larry shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a Sal Whisperer. Now, let me blow some fucking smoke in your mouth.”

Sal paused for a moment. His limbs were tingling. He was definitely starting to feel the high, more and more and more. “I would have to take off my face, though. To do that.”

“Then take off your face.” Larry leaned back onto his elbows. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it a million times.”

That was fair. He was still just Larry. Sal had a hard time connecting the past to the present sometimes. This Larry, right in front of him, was indeed the same Larry from years ago. He was a little big hairier, a lot more modded up, but it was still just Larry. Sal saw it in the way he talked. The way he walked. The way he joked and laughed and ate and sang. It was just Larry. He wasn’t some scary heartbreak demon anymore. It was just his friend. And it felt so freeing to admit that to himself.

Sal unbuckled his prosthetic and let it fall on the bed. If he hadn’t done it fast, then maybe he would have overthought it and chickened out. So there was his bare face, exposed to God and man and Larry. And just like always, Larry didn’t even look phased. It was like no change had occurred. He passed the vape to Sal. “Inhale and then exhale. Then inhale again, and come closer to me.”

He did as he was told. He took a deep breath, letting his head get dizzier before blowing the cloud out of his broken, beaten, half-nose. He then took another inhale, deeper this time, and held it as he leaned closer to Larry. Larry leaned back on the bed and parted his lips, which Sal moved as close as he could towards without touching. He let out a long, languid exhale that shook his chest. The vapor poured out of his split lips towards Larry’s perfectly full ones, and Larry shut his eyes as he left the smoke fill him up.

Sal sat back, giving room for Larry to exhale the remnants of the not-kiss.

“Damn, I missed that.” Larry smiled contently. He sat up and took off his shirt before flopping back onto the mattress. “Again.”

So Sal did it again.

“Again.”

And again.

“More!”

He did more.

Soon, Larry didn’t even have to say it. Sal was only breathing for Larry, and Larry was only breathing because of Sal. They both worked their way through an entire cartridge of THC, getting closer and closer on the bed until they were dry-humping like pathetic teenagers. They both were moaning, grunting, desperately trying touch anything they could.

Sal started to kiss Larry’s neck, causing the taller boy to arch his back. “You’re getting very aggressive, Sally Face.” His breath hitched as Sal bit down hard on his ear. “We should smoke together more often.”

Sal whispered close to his ear, making him shiver. “I’m really fucking hard for you, Larry. And I’m really in the mood to suck your dick. But if you’re sarcastic, I’ll stop. And then no one will be happy.”

“Shit.” Larry’s eyes rolled back, overwhelmed with too many feelings rolling over him. “Do whatever you fucking want, baby.”

That word kicked Sal into gear.

“It’s been a while since you gave me head.” Larry moaned as Sal kissed down his chest, his stomach, his waist, down to nipple on his hipbones. “It’s been a while since you made yourself useful.” His voice was low, dark, _growling_ and Sal felt it in his stomach and head and cock. He was squirming, clawing into Larry’s torso with his nails. His whole body was on fire.

He needed this. Badly.

He rushed through the process of undoing Larry’s belt and jeans, slipping his hand into Larry’s boxers and making him jump. “Shit, Sal! Your hand is fucking freezing!” But he wasn’t complaining for long. Not after Sal gave him a hungry look and started to word at his erection with his hand.

His eye ran down Larry’s shirtless body, down his nipple piercings and his happy trail down to – something metal. Sal blinked. “Wait. When the hell did you get your fucking dick pierced?”

“Like back in September. Travis dared me. Let’s not focus on that right now.”

Sal looked up at Larry through a half-lidded eye. “I want to focus on it. I want to focus on it in a lot of different ways.”

Larry’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah. Yeah, focus on it.” He was tripping over his words.

Sal started to pump at his dick faster and faster. “I want to focus on getting it inside me. I want to feel the fucking metal in the back of my throat.”

“Fuck, Sal. If I had known you would like this, I would have gotten this done ages ago.”

Sal leaned forward and ran his tongue from the base of Larry’s cock to the tip, where he quickly took the whole thing down his throat in one go. Larry reached out and gripped into his hair, letting out a hiss of pleasure. The tighter Larry pulled on Sal’s hair, the faster Sal bobbed his head up and down. His moans of pleasure sent vibrations through his throat and soon Larry was leaning back on the bed with furrowed brows, babbling nonsense. “Fuck, Sal, I love the way your fucking throat feels wrapped around my cock. This is what you were made for, baby. You were fucking made to take my fucking cock. Don’t fucking stop, please don’t stop, fuck, Sal-“

And Sal stopped, taking his mouth off of Larry’s tip with a wet popping noise. He gave one last lap to the piercing before sitting back proudly. “You aren’t going to be done that fast.”

“Sal, you bastard-“

“I want you inside of me.”

Larry’s face flushed. “Fuck yeah.”

Without a second thought, Sal was pushing Larry down onto the mattress, kissing his neck with all the force he could muster. Larry could barely even part away to speak a few words. “Lube – suitcase- yeah!”

Sal wasted no time in jumping off the bed to dig through Larry’s suitcase. When he found what he was looking for, he tossed it to Larry and rushed to take his pants off.

“You’re a little over eager, aren’t you?” Larry smirked. He slowly poured the smooth strawberry-scented lube onto two fingers. It dripped onto his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. “You’re really excited to get fucked by me.”

“It’s been way to long.” Sal crawled back onto the bed towards Larry. “Way too long. I miss feeling full.”

Larry was caught off guard again. “Jesus, dude, you haven’t been this vocal in a while.”

“And you haven’t been this slow for a while. Hurry!” Sal flopped onto the bed so he was surrounded by pillows. “I need you inside of me. I want to cum on your dick.”

Larry seemed completely frozen. His brain had shut down.

“…Larry?”

He blinked. “I think you just killed me.”

Sal slapped his arm. “Don’t be lame.”

Larry paused for a moment before he scooted a bit closer. “Sal…I missed being with you.”

The entire room shifted. The entire mood shifted.

Sal looked up at Larry. A halo of light shone around his head from the hotel lamp. With the bags under his eyes and the bruised, flushed lips he looked like a freshly fallen angel. He was looking at Sal with pure emotion in both of his eyes, a tangible kind of pain in them. His hair fell around Sal’s neck, ticking him, drowning him.

“I missed being with you too, Larbear.”

The nickname was out in the open before Sal could stop it.

Larry hesitated, his lips moving but not forming words. He whipped his hand on his jeans. He zipped up his fly. “I can’t. I can’t, Sal, I’m sorry.” He stood up and backed away, holding his hands away from them like they were covered in blood. His breathing got labored. His pupils blew out. He reached up at his head and started to pull his hair. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t-“

“Larry.” Sal stood up, Larry’s sweatshirt falling over his legs like a dress. “Larry, you’re okay-“

“No, I’m not okay!” Larry yelled. He pulled his hands away from his head and Sal saw strands of hair fall out with them.

“Larry. I’m here. You need to breathe-“

“No! Stop!” Larry backed up until his spine hit the wall of the hotel. He used his hair to cover his face and used one of his hands to nervously beat on the wall by his side. “No, no, no-“

“I’m going to go get Travis. This has to be the drugs-“

“It’s not the drugs!” He yelled. “It’s because I’m fucking in love with you, you fucking idiot!”

Sal’s heart stopped.

Larry brushed his hair away from his face, revealing heavy streams of burning hot tears. “I still fucking love you. And I can’t just fuck you anymore. I can’t do that. I need you. I need the  _real_ you. I need _all_ of you. I need your hugs from behind when we’re in line at the store, I need your voice singing to me as I fall asleep, I need to be able to feel you near me. I need your fucking love. I can’t keep doing this! I can’t survive without you! I need you. You’re my fucking oxygen.”

Sal didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“You’re the reason I haven’t killed myself yet. You’re the reason I haven’t thrown myself off a bridge into the freeway. Leaving you is the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life and I’m a horrific monster who doesn’t deserve anything you have to give me!” He screamed. “Every single day, I wake up in a bus or a hotel with a hangover that’s somehow worse than the last. I wake up choking on my own nosebleed, or with vomit in my throat. And every _single_ time I wake up, I keep my eyes closed for just one moment longer praying that I’ll wake up in Nockfell on the day I met you so we can do it all over again! And this time, I wouldn’t ruin our lives!”

“Larry, I-“

“No, shut up!” Larry whipped around and left his back facing Sal. “Shut up, Sal. Please.” His voice was sounding clogged with tears. “Whenever I snort a line, I hope it’s the one that stops my heart so that I don’t have to keep living in a world without Sal Fisher. Every time I hear your voice, a part of my heart breaks off. Every time I see you being your perfect self on stage, my stomach hurts. I’m so in love with you that my body literally aches. I’m in _pain,_ Sal. And I don’t deserve you. And I know that. And I’m sorry for being so mean. And…and I’m sorry for being such a horrible boyfriend. I never treated you right.”

“Yes, you did!” Sal cried. “You were everything.”

“How can you still say shit like that? After everything?” The words came out so defeated and broken that Sal teared up instantly. Larry held a hand out to support him against the wall. “How can you still even look at me?”

Sal walked forward slowly and put a hand on Larry’s shoulder. “Look at me.” Tears ran down his cheeks and pooled in his scars.

Larry didn’t move.

“Look at me, Larry.”

Nothing.

“Larbear.” Sal whispered quietly. “Please.”

Larry slowly turned around. His dark eyes were bloodshot, full of tears and unspoken pain. His lips, raw and red, were trembling. For once, Sal felt much larger and taller than Larry. He was small, shaking, shattered.

Sal took Larry’s face into his hands. Larry tried to flinch away, but Sal lightly dug his nails into Larry’s face to keep him there. They stood there like that, Larry’s face looking down onto Sal’s. They were talking with their eyes, something they hadn’t done since the night before Larry left. There was a moment of pure connection, a silent war happening between them. Then Sal lifted himself onto his tip-toes, leaned in, and ever so gently kissed Larry.

It was short, soft, surprising for both. It felt new, foreign, and terrifying. But somehow, it felt like home. When Sal pulled away, Larry followed him, not wanting the kiss to end. But Sal lowered himself from his tip-toes and broke the spell. “Larry. I haven’t stopped loving you. Not for a single damn day. And I hated myself for it. I hated myself for all of it. I close my eyes and I only see your face. I run my hands through my hair and I feel yours. You’re in my dreams every single fucking night.”

“How can you still love me? I’m a fucking disease.” Larry mumbled.

 Sal didn’t have a proper response. “I don’t know. I just know that I’m supposed to be with you. You’re my person, Larry. I’m not going to find anyone else. I don’t _want_ to find anyone else. These last few months with you have been the best I’ve had in years. Every second with you is like I’m being fucking born again.”

“What do we do?” Larry’s lip trembled. Sal’s hands hadn’t left his cheeks, and they felt his jaw shaking.

Sal shook his head. “I have no clue. All I know is that I don’t want to be without you anymore. We should take it slow. Like…super slow. But I want this. I want you.”

Larry leaned forward to press his forehead against the other boy’s. He took a shuttering breath and closed his eyes. “Okay. Okay, cool. I want you, too, Sal. I really want you.”

Sal leaned forward and captured his lips once again. Larry slowly brought his hands up to Sal’s waist, holding him gently like he could break at any moment. They stood like that, moving only their mouths, gently kissing until both of them had stopped crying. Sal lead Larry back to the hotel bed once they both had stopped shaking, and they curled up under the covers facing each other. The storm outside was still raging on, but they didn’t even notice it. They were too busy being only centimeters apart, breathing in each other’s scent and just barely touching their fingertips together.

They both knew that this was a terrible idea. But there was something inside them that wouldn’t let them stop. They were both still high, both gone as hell. They were extremely unaware. But they were aware of each other. And that’s all they needed to fall asleep. Inside both of them, something no longer felt missing. They fell into their dreams more complete than they had felt in months.

Who knows what tomorrow held. But for this night, they were one again. A little cracked, a little bandaged. But they were coming back. The sun was finally rising inside them again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to every single person who has been following this fic so far! I'm so so happy you all are enjoying. It makes me feel so honored. Like I can't even put it into words. So far, the fic looks like it'll be roughly 30 chapters long so we're halfway there y'all! YAY!


	16. Chapter 16

The boys woke up, sleeping too close, to the news that the Sally Face Killer’s bus had been in a lightening fire. There was damage, minor enough but still damning for at least a few weeks. Chug was going to have to stay behind, trying to get affairs in order, while the band had to now share an already cramped bus with the entirety of Sanity’s Fall and their equipment.

Ash had delivered the news, and Sal had forgotten he gave her a spare key. So she walked right in on Sal with his head resting on Larry’s bare chest, both sleeping so heavily one could think they were dead. She hit them with pillows to wake them up, and nearly screamed once she saw Sal had nothing on but a sweatshirt. She, surprisingly enough, had a more visceral reaction to the fact that Larry had slept in jeans than that they had been sleeping together.

She did always say that soulmates end up together. Maybe she wasn’t expecting anything less.

“None of our shit was damaged, thank fuck.” Ash said, sitting on the end of the bed in her pajamas. “But the bus like totally doesn’t run. So looks like we’re shacking up with you all for a bit.”

“That’s going to be a nightmare.” Larry groaned. He rubbed his head, cringing at the headache he knew was forming.

“At least we don’t have to worry about Sal finding an empty bunk.” Ash said.

 “Shut up. I’ll sleep in the seats, you all can take my bunk.” Larry mindlessly put his arm around Sal. He froze when he realized what he did, but Sal leaned into the touch like he was sliding back into a warm bath.

Ash narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “This is gross.”

“Nothing is even happening!” Sal huffed.

“Still. It’s weird. It’s like seeing your grandparents get frisky.”

“Stop!”

The bus rides were just as horrible as one would have expected. Shoving nine idiots into a small space is always going to be room for disaster. Todd and Neil were inseparable. They were usually tucked away on some seats towards the front, talking each other’s ears off about some boring bullshit. Ash was sitting with Maple, casually talking with the two other Sanity’s Fall members, trying to make these periods of time at least sort of worth it. And Sal was stuck between Travis and Larry most of the time, shoved all together in a little bunk, passing around a vape and a party-sized bag of chips.

“Okay, okay, hear me out: We don’t have a second verse. Like ‘Mr. Brightside’.” Larry said. He had managed to fit his guitar into the bunk, forcing Sal and Travis to sit too close together. The attempts to work on the duet had been futile, but Sal was determined to make progress if it killed him.

“You’re just saying that because you are too lazy to write or play a second verse.” Travis rolled his eyes.

“Maybe. But it could work.”

“It wouldn’t work. Because this song is definitely going to be on the slower side, if we use the original chords you put together. Which means it would just look and sound lazy. Because that’s what it is. Lazy.” Sal flipped through his notebook. “I can some lyrics that might work for a second verse. But it depends on the length we’re going for. Also who’s going to sing what because the pitch on some of these might be out of your range.”

“We get it, you can sing higher than me.” Larry stuck out his tongue. “Look, I’m trying, okay? I have no idea how to go about this. I haven’t written a ballad since high school.”

Travis stuff his face with chips and turned to Sal. “I think you all should just whip out one of those old songs. From Todd’s library? Like seriously, you all are going to end up getting no work done. Y’all are either fucking with your eyes or sleeping or complaining about writing the duet instead of actually writing it.”

Sal elbowed Travis and snatched the chips out of his hands. “Shut up! You lost your Ruffles privileges.”

“We aren’t eye-fucking, we’re eye-making-out. There’s a difference.”

Sal kicked Larry and grabbed the vape off the blanket next to him. “Now no one gets anything, all the resources are mine and you all can kiss my ass.”

“Is that an invitation?” Larry grinned. Sal kicked him again.

Travis started to laugh. “You’re a mess. This is all a mess. No one is going to make this duet happen.”

“We are going to make this happen, dammit.” He grumbled.

If they were going to make it happen, it certainly didn’t happen on that bus ride. Or the next. Or the next. The following week was full of endless goofing off. Now that Larry and Sal weren’t even trying to hide their attractions from each other, much less themselves, all concepts of work ethic and genuine work were halted. It was like they were teenagers again, having their first crushes, being completely obsessed in all aspects with each other.

Now that the dam had been busted, there was no getting the water back in.

“We thought we were the gross ones.” Neil joked one day, as Sal was feeding Larry cookies while he tried – and failed – to play the guitar, sing and eat at the same time. “But it turns out we were just the calm before the storm.”

“We are _not_ as bad as you all are saying we are!” Sal said.

Larry nodded, agreeing, trying to talk through a mouth full of cookies.

“Okay, correction: Larry is as bad as you are saying.”

 They held hands under covers and under tables. They never kissed in front of the others. They thought that maybe, just maybe, it could still be considered ‘taking it slow’ if no one saw it. Maybe they could convince themselves that it wouldn’t be as embarrassing if no one watched. How quickly they jumped back into each other’s arms full force was truly humiliating, and maybe they wouldn’t feel so bad about it if no one had any proof. But the stolen kisses in bathrooms, the ghostly touches whenever they passed in the halls and the whispered compliments backstage weren’t enough. It was never going to be enough.

They were desperate to consume each other. They were burning with the need to constantly hold, constantly touch, constantly be _them._ They were making up for over two years of lost time, and they were slipping, falling, ignoring all their self-control. They didn’t realize how hellish it was to exist separately until they got reminded what it was like to be a team again.

The morning sun rose outside and cast long, dark shadows through the bus windows. Sal and Larry had fallen asleep in a few seats under a luggage shelf, and they woke up with Sal’s head in Larry’s lap, the golden light framing their faces and making their eyes burn. Larry looked down at Sal and smiled softly, using his calloused fingers to push the blue hair from his plastic face. “'Morning, Baby Blue.”

Sal looked up at him and drank in the view of Larry’s groggy face. His eyes were fogged, his grin was sloppy. His hair was a right mess. He looked like a lion from the way it stood up everywhere, greasy and unbrushed and disastrous.

“I need to straighten your hair again soon.” Sal said.

Larry brushed through Sal’s hair with his fingers. “Can you wash it, too? Because I’m lazy. And I miss being pampered.”

“Only if you do mine.”

“Is this a promise that we’re going to shower together when we get to the hotel? Because I could go for a quick little-“

“No.” Sal reached up and tapped Larry’s nose. “We have a meet and greet. Like, as soon as we get there.”

“How tragic. Don't meet anyone prettier than me." He stuck out his tongue.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The meet and greet was at a mall. Just like all the others. And just like all the others, this one felt extremely fast-paced and chaotic while also being slow, grueling, and time-consuming. It was an honor to meet people that cared for them so much, but for an introvert like Sal? His energy was drained early on and the rest felt like an extreme chore. He hated to admit it, and felt like a greedy asshole for doing so, but it was just the reality of his job.

Meeting each person usually went the same. Screaming and crying, too much touching, thank yous and goodbyes and picture after picture after picture. It had become robotic. Like autopilot. Ash was always so good about getting into it, really connecting with the person. Sal would try, but he just didn’t exactly know how. And too many people would stare too long at his face, and it would make him always want to hide behind Todd. The mysterious, quiet part helped with his image. But it still made him feel like shit.

The last girl was finally posing between them, with Todd and Sal on either side of her. Maple was next to Sal, posing in their matching Sally Face Killer’s merch. Ash was next to Todd, fingerguns out, ready for the picture.

The girl’s hand was moving up Sal’s back. He tried not to flinch, and tried not to give off the appearance of being so deeply uncomfortable. He was used to being groped during meets by men, women and everything in between. So he wasn’t too phased. This time, it felt different. She was moving up, not down. It almost made him want to back out of the photo. It was too late, though, when he felt her hand on the back of his head.

As soon as the camera flashed, Sal felt his mask unbuckle and slip right off. He reflexively slammed his hands on to his face, stumbling backwards and folding in on himself to hide.

“Shit!” He heard Ash scream. “Listen, you little bitch, what you just did is considered assault in a court of law and you can fucking expect us to take you to the fucking bench with this shit!”

Maple grabbed his mask off the ground, and Todd walking in front of Sal and ushered him behind the backdrop to the security team. “Take him to like a staff lounge or something.”

He was put in a backroom somewhere, barely able to hear the mall crowds though the walls. Ash and Todd and Maple were into full damage-control mode, running around the mall with the security teams. Meanwhile, he was just crying silently and clutching his mask against his face as if it could fall off and shatter at any moment. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed but it felt like years.

He heard the door to the room open and then close.

A warm body sat next to Sal on the floor. Far enough away to let him breathe, close enough to where Sal could feel the waves of heat coming off of him. “Hey.” A deep voice said in a low whisper. “I’m here. If you need anything.”

Sal didn’t uncover his face, but he did scoot over so he could just barely feel the fabric of Larry’s clothes touching him.

They sat like this in silence for a bit. The sound of the air conditioning was the only thing they had to listen to. Finally, Sal spoke up. “Did they…did anyone see?”

“Ash and Todd don’t think so. It all happened so fast.”

"It was scary."

"I know it was, baby."

Sal opened his fingers just a crack to look at the floor. He saw Larry’s hand, close to his leg. He moved his leg so they were touching. “That’s good then.” He sniffled. “Why are you here anyway?”

“Todd called me the second it happened.” Larry moved his hand so it was on Sal’s knee. “I, uh, wanted to come here. As fast as possible. To make sure you were okay.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“Yes, I did. Because I love you.” Larry said. “I’ll do anything it takes to prove myself to you. You deserve it. Ask me to go anywhere, do anything. I’ll do it.”

“No drugs.” Sal quickly said. “No coke. None of that shit. No drugs at all. Please.”

Larry hesitated before nodded. “I can do that. I can.”

“Weed in moderation doesn’t count.” Sal said. “And, like, obviously I can’t stop you. But I need this. This is my one big dealbreaker, dude.”

“I totally understand. And I’m going to make it work for you. I promise.” Larry held up his pinky.

 Sal intertwined it with his own. “Okay. Promise.”

“Do I have to throw out my pure shit or can I sell it?” Larry asked with a sheepish smile.

“I googled how much that’s worth. You sell that shit, dude. And use the money to eat a real meal.” Sal nudged him with his shoulder, breaking into a smirk.

“We should get a real meal. At some point.” Larry said. “Like. Together. As in not gas station food. Or fast food. I want to take you somewhere actually good. Like…Olive Garden.”

Sal choked on his laughter. “Are you calling Olive Garden high-fucking-quality cuisine?”

“All I’m saying is that I haven’t been back since everything went down between us and all I want is some bomb as fuck spaghetti, okay?” He leaned his head against the wall. His nose wrinkled with laughter. “I miss real food. I miss my mom’s food.”

“I miss Lisa.” Sal leaned onto Larry’s shoulder, resting his head on his muscle and taking a deep breath, allowing himself to be engulfed by his scent. “I want to see Lisa.”

“I, uh, haven’t seen her. Since I left.” His voice dropped into a smaller tone, sounding more like a vulnerable child. His grip tightened on Sal’s knee. “I’ve talked to her on the phone. Like…twice. I send her letters sometimes. But I just…I’m a total coward, dude. I can’t face her. I left her just like I left you.”

Sal turned to look up at Larry. “She loves you, dude. Just talk to her.” He reached up with a pale hand to brush his dark hair away from his face. “She’ll love you. No matter what.”

Larry just shrugged. He sat deep in thought for a few moments before turning to prop his chin on Sal’s head. “When I go visit her after Screamfest, you can come. You can come see her. I know she misses you. And you can eat her food.”

“I would love to eat her food.”

Larry shifted around and kissed Sal’s head. “I would love to go back home with you.”

Sal jerked up, knocking Larry’s nose on his head. “Fuck! That’s it!”

“Oh, fuck! My nose!”

“Larry, I get it now!”

“You gave me a nosebleed, you dick!” Larry cried, both hands flying up to his face.    

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry!” Sal got up onto his knees and reached out for Larry’s face. He was worried, of course, but he started to laugh. “I figured it out, Larbear.”

Larry’s facial expressions were cycling through confusion, pain, and a smugness that came from the knowledge that Sal was excited about _something._ “What do you mean?”

“We were too focused on _coming_ home!” He held Larry’s face in his hands, trying to help with the nosebleed, but in the end just shaking him with excitement. “But we aren’t _coming_ home! That implies, like we’re there. And we’re already safe. And like it’s totally the wrong emotion. We’re _going_ home! We’re on our way! We’re like moving towards it but we aren’t close yet. You know?”

“I’m kind of following. I kind of get it. I think I understand. I’m just going to trust you. I need to clean up.” Larry started to laugh.

 The door opened, making both boys jump.

 Ash paused in the doorway for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you all are making out covered in blood?” She cringed. “Because I’ll kill you both with my bare hands.”

Larry roared in laughter, clutching his stomach and his nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ash!”

“We aren’t!” Sal whined. He jerked his hands away from Larry and looked down at them. “Jesus, Lar, you’re like a fucking waterfall.”

 “Well, I’m happy to let you know that we got her information and we’re all good with security cam footage and all that if you choose to press charges. Which you better. Because she was sassy to me and I want to break her teeth.” Ash leaned against the doorframe. “And we had security do a little digging. No pictures. But…” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “There’s a a video on Twitter. It’s been reuploaded like a million times so we can’t exactly, you know, track it. But your face isn’t visible. It’s too shaky for anyone to see.”

As soon as she said those words, Sal left the room. He went to a bathroom. He threw up. Everywhere. Even though Ashley kept telling him that no one saw, he still got so dizzy he could barely stand. Larry stood behind him, plugged his own nose with toliet paper with one hand and holding Sal's hair with the other. He started to cry, and Larry held him. He refused to watch the video. He refused to know anything. He just wanted to go to the hotel, eat, perform and then sleep in Larry’s arms. And that’s exactly what he did.

“I did horribly tonight.” Sal whispered into Larry’s chest. He was laying on his side, head on Larry’s arm, his face buried in Larry’s shirt as Larry pet his hair and kissed his forehead.

He shook his head. “No you didn’t. You never do.” He took Sal’s hand off his waist and brought it to his lips, kissing each finger slowly. “You’re a musical angel. You’ve never played a bad show.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, darling. I promise.” Larry brought Sal’s hand to his chest and held it there. He stared at him with his doeish brown eyes, half-lidded and sleepy. “It’s okay to admit that today really shook you up. And pressing charges isn’t admitting weakness.”

“I know, I know…but still. You understand.”

“I understand. I know.” Larry leaned in and kissed Sal’s nose. It was light, soft and instantly made Sal feel safe. His eye fluttered shut, and Larry continued to pepper kissed all over his disfeatured face. “I know, baby.” He whispered. “You have all the time in the world. Just focus on resting right now, okay?”

Sal nuzzled closer, shifting so that his bare legs were tangled with Larry’s under the hotel sheets. “Is it lame I missed your body heat? You’re just, like, a literal human hot water bottle. It’s so nice.” Sal was quickly drifting off into a deep slumber. Being held and kissed and pet was making him feel so, so secure. Nothing could hurt him here. “I missed sleeping with another person.

“I missed sleeping with you.” Larry said. “I missed everything with you.”

Sal, half-asleep, gripped Larry’s shirt with a tight fist. “Don’t leave before I get up. Don’t disappear. I need you.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and a shuttering exhale. “I’m not leaving any time soon, Baby Blue. I’m not going to disappear.”

        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the kind comments, kudos and support! You guys are amazing and just totally fill my heart with joy. 
> 
> All updates for when chapters will be posted/information about my other writing endeavors are all on my tumblr! I recently posted a little fluffy flower shop AU one shot if you all want to check that out on here as well.


	17. Chapter 17

Larry put an arm on either side of Sal, making him feel safe. He was perched on a railing in a stairwell, off to the side of some venue somewhere, the cold air leaking in and chilling his skin. “You’re such a pretty person.” He said, his gaze focused only on the other. “You are such a gentle, beautiful person.”

“Stop being sappy.” Sal bashfully turned away. His hands were pink from the cold, resting on Larry’s bare chest.

“Never. I never want to stop saying stuff like that to you. Ever.” Larry leaned in closer. “I could stare at you like this forever. I would never have to eat or drink or do anything. I could just stare at you. Until the day I died.”

Sal rolled his eye. “That’s so dumb.”

“Can I take you on a proper date?” He said suddenly. He moved Sal’s legs so he was standing between them.

“To where, an Olive Garden?” He giggled.

“No. Like a real fancy-ass meal. Like somewhere super nice.” Larry leaned in to start to kiss his neck slowly, trailing from Sal’s ear to his collarbone.

“Can you even dress ‘super nice’?” Sal’s eyes fluttered closed.

“I’ll prove that I can.” His voice got low, growling in Sal’s ear.

“Wait…Wait, Lar.” Sal pushed him off. “You…you know we can’t go on a real date, right? Like…people will see us. We’re already gross enough as it is on stage. People will start to, like, figure shit out.”

Larry blinked for a moment. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Oh…” He looked away for a second, deep in thought. “Well, I could always rent out a whole restaurant.”

“Don’t you dare _ever_ spend that much money on me!”

“How about renting out an entire movie theater? For whatever classic bullshit you want to watch.”

Sal hesitated. “That’s still too much money. I like it. And I wouldn’t say no. But that’s too much money.”

Larry pushed up Sal’s mask and kissed him, pressing himself against the other. Larry parted Sal’s broken lips with his tongue, tasting everything that he had to offer. After a few moments of gentle kissing, Larry bit down hard on Sal’s bottom lip, forcing a moan out of him. He pulled away, smiling like an idiot, and buried his face in Sal’s neck. “Let me do that for you.”

He was putty in his hands. “Then fine. Sure.”

“It’s a date.” Larry smiled against Sal’s cold, blushing skin. “Awesome. Can we bone now?”

“Jesus, Lar.”

“I need you, rockstar.” His large hands moved up to the other boy’s boney waist. “I want to hear you moan like that again.”

“We go on in an hour.”

“Trust me, you look so good that it won’t take anything near an hour.” One of Larry’s hands moved up, slipping under Sal’s shirt to touch his chest. The other took advantage of Sal’s already spread legs, and started to palm at the tightest part of his ripped skinny jeans.

Sal gasped, his grip tightening on Larry’s shoulders. “Jesus Christ, dude.”

Withdrawal had turned Larry into a bit of a sex addict. It was fun, to say the least, but also exhausting. Sal had a limp for a few days after the last time, and it made Ash and Travis lose their minds with laughter. It might have also made Travis pitch a tent. Sal didn’t want to know the details.

All he knew was that Boise and Seattle went by too quickly. And Portland was going to go by too quickly, too. And that San Francisco was one of the places they would play a double. Then, they would drive for a few days to Vegas. Then, finally, be in LA for two weeks before Screamfest. Finally. The tour was starting to come to a close, and already everyone was getting kinder. More open. More nostalgic. They still had a good three weeks of a journey left, but it was enough to make them realize that soon Sanity’s Fall and the Sally Face Killers would part ways again. Daily would go to monthly.

For Todd and Neil, this revelation lead to a lot of sappy romantic gestures that made everyone else want to gag. Roses were everywhere. Lots of handwritten letters were passed around. It was disgustingly adorable.

For Larry and Sal, that just meant a lot more fucking.

A lot more.

As previously mentioned, withdrawal turned Larry into a monster. A hormonal, migraine-ridden, vomit-producing, mood-swinging, sexy, dominant, touchy monster. Maybe it was his new way of numbing the pain. Maybe it was his body trying to produce normal chemicals again. Maybe it was just for fun. No matter what, though, it was intense. Everything was intense.

Everything was Larry in its fullest form. Sal was overwhelmed by the sweat, the scent, the strength. He would hold Sal too tightly, taste every inch of him and then slam him down on any piece of furniture that he could find and fuck him like it was the last time they would ever see each other. Both of them were covered in scratches, bites, bruises, the whole nine yards. They had lost all self-control and inhibition. Any time a door closed on them, someone was getting touched. Someone was getting kissed.

And they were too close to being caught too many times. There was more than one occasion where Larry’s face would be between Sal’s milky white thighs when suddenly Ash or Neil or Todd would bang on the door asking for something.  Larry’s favorite game was to continue what he was doing, continue fucking or sucking Sal off while Sal tried to hold a conversation through a closed door. All it did was fuel Larry’s hubris. He already had a god complex when he was in a dominant mood, but this just made it worse. Sal wasn’t going to complain, of course. He loved getting slammed against walls, having his hair yanked out and getting his face and chest and ass covered in cum. He was having the time of his life.

Every other word out of his mouth was ‘faster’, ‘harder’, ‘more’. What he wouldn’t give to be under Larry every second of every day. When Larry was busy, Sal was pulling his own hair in the privacy of the hotels or bus, filming videos to send to him later. He would fuck himself with one hand, yank his blue locks with the other and save every second of it to blow up Larry’s phone while he was on stage. This is what Sal had imagined when he dreamed of a future as a rockstar with Larry. The sexy, messy fucks in venue bathrooms. The wild passion on stage that lead to even wilder passion behind closed doors. Whenever he imagined what it was like to be famous, this was it. The only drug he ever could have imagined doing was Larry. Larry Johnson: a god among men, a king among the lesser. Sal was drunk off of having him back.

When he wasn’t making Sal’s vocal cords go raw from screaming, though, Larry the demi-god was sweating up a storm. Fidgeting like crazy. Itching all over. More than once, Travis had to talk him through an episode while Sal sat on the bed, crying silent tears and watching his lover sob and scream and punch the hotel walls and get security called over and over and over.

He never slept anymore. Instead of sleeping, he would twitch and shake and cling onto Sal for dear life. He had random nosebleeds, which would trigger panic attacks, which would prevent him from breathing. Sal would wake up to find a trembling, sobbing, choking Larry more than once. If he did happen to accidentally fall asleep, it was for hours. He had to be forced to wake up, and then it would take him forever to ground himself back in reality. Hallucinations after he woke up weren’t uncommon. It scared the shit out of everyone.

Everyone but Travis.

Travis was too calm.

He took it upon himself to be Larry’s spiritual guide to sobriety, speaking both ways out of his mouth. He would tell Larry how strong he was, how brave he was, and that he was doing the right thing. All within the same hour that he would devour some nose candy and fly to the moon. It probably wasn’t making things easy for Larry, and all it did was make Sal bristle with rage.

“You’re disgusting.” Sal finally burst one day. “You’re gross. You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

“Say it louder for the people in the back.” Travis rolled his eyes. “Look, kid, I’m helping him the best I can. This is going to take months. Possibly years. I’m doing what I need to do.”

“You could take the temptation away!” He cried. “You’re always high. Don’t you think that’s fucking with his head?”

“Well, it would fuck with everyone’s head if both of us were that fucked up, right?” He said. “Imagine that. Who the fuck would babysit both of us at three in the morning? Is it going to be you? Are you going to be able to handle both of us at the same time?”

Travis was right. It just made Sal angrier. “Shut up.”

“If I’m going through withdrawal like that, I would want my own personal angel. I don’t like sharing.” He ran a dark hand through his messy hair. “I’m doing the best I can, okay? I promise. This just isn’t easy, Sal. Larry’s going through hell right now.” He started to chuckle. “I am so surprised he’s made it this long, honestly. He’s at two weeks clean. That’s a big deal.”

Sal leaned against the grainy motel wall and slid down until he was slumped against the cold pavement. “I can’t believe it’s almost Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah. Fucking same.” Travis crouched down in front of him and offered him his pack of cigarettes. Sal raised a hand in rejection. The blonde shrugged and pulled one out for himself. “My dad would make us go to church every single Thanksgiving night. The best part of leaving is getting to pretend churches don’t exist”

“Until they come up and protest our shows. That’s always fun.” Sal watched him light his cigarette, the light casting harsh shadows on his features.

“That’s super fun. I love to give them free merch to burn.” Travis laughed, his exhale laced in smoke.

“That’s real cute.” The blue-haired book looked down at his feet. “Larry will be okay, right?”

“If he stays with it, definitely.” He nodded. “But I’m going to be honest, okay? Because you deserve it. If he stays clean much longer? And then he tries to jump back on it? He could die. His heart could stop, like, instantly. Especially if the shit is strong enough.”

Sal got dizzier and dizzier with every word Travis spoke. “So no pressure, but he could literally die?”

“…Yeah.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” He dropped his head into his hands. The plastic was cold to the touch.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, man. You’re helping him a lot. I can tell. Like, he _stopped_ for you.” Travis said softly. “I promise you’re doing good. Everything looks promising. Every single day he keeps this up? The closer he is to actually living a healthy life. And, not to get super lame, but you deserve someone with their shit together. And he’s trying for you. So that’s progress.”

"It's not progress until he's better. He's not better."

"He's better than he was yesterday."

Bus rides were quieter now. They were still too cramped, but the promise of the Sally Face Killers getting their bus back in San Francisco was keeping them alive. Sal sat with Larry’s head in his lap, his body jerking and bumping with the bus. The driver for Sanity’s Fall was a lot more aggressive than Chug, and it definitely didn’t make it easy for Sal to sleep. He had pulled the curtain on the bunk, leaving Larry and him in a reserved and private silence.

Larry stared at the ceiling with empty, dead eyes. His breathing was labored. Sal could feel it shaking his legs with every inhale he attempted. While he was rubbing Larry’s head, something bubbled up inside his stomach. He was suddenly overcome with a nervousness, a weird feeling that he couldn’t quiet place. He needed to say something. Anything. 

“Have you thought about going to the doctors?” Sal whispered. He knew the answer. He knew what was at stake. But it was worth asking, just in case.

“You know I can’t, darling.” Larry’s voice was so hoarse it sounded like he was choking on his words.

“I’m surprised you’ve been able to perform.”

“Me too.”

They spoke too soon.

That night, in front of thousands of people, Larry passed out on stage.

He windmilled his hair, stood up, and suddenly his eyes were rolled behind his head and he was down for the count. He landed with an echoing thud onto the hardwood floor, leaving the crowd confused and screaming. Without any hesitation, Todd swung his guitar onto his back and ran for security and paramedics. Neil dropped his sticks and rushed to support Larry’s head and plug his nosebleed. The other two bandmates instantly went into crowd-control mode, blocking the view as much as they could with their bodies.

The scream of panic Sal let out from backstage was nearly inhuman. For half a second, he was convinced that he just watched Larry die. He nearly passed out with him. Ash had to hold him back from running onto the stage.

“You’re going to block the paramedics if you go out, dumbass!”

“What if he’s fucking dead, Ash?! Let me the _fuck_ go!”

But he wasn’t dead. He was just feverish. And dehydrated. And exhausted. And malnourished. His pulse was there, but it was slow. He needed fluids. He needed rest. He needed a hospital.

He only got two of those things.

Sal sat clutching Larry’s hand like it was a lifeline as he was laying on the stretcher, an IV in his arm and an icepack on his head. It took every bone in Sal’s body, and every icy glare from Travis, to not force the paramedics to take Larry away. He wasn’t going to wake up any time soon. He wouldn’t even have to know. No one did.

But everyone would know.

A forced admittance into rehab wasn’t what they needed right now.

Instead, they could only wait. And force him to drink Gatorade and eat oranges over the next month and pray that he didn’t rip out all his hair or scratch open all his skin. He was melting, dissolving. And all Sal could do was watch It got better every day, but somehow worse and worse. Every step forward was just another step in the wrong direction. 

The first thing Larry did when he finally woke up after the incident on stage was turn to Sal with a sheepish, crooked grin and whisper. “I hope this didn’t ruin my chances of getting you to go on that date.”

“I hate you, Johnson.” Sal gripped Larry’s hand tighter, tears slipping into his relieved smile under his prosthetic.

“I’ll take that as a sign the date is still on.” His eyes fluttered shut again, allowing him to fall back into somewhere safe. Somewhere where he wasn’t thinking about how much his body hurt. Somewhere warm, and good. A place where his chest wasn’t always pounding and screaming and aching.

Sal wished he could take him to that place and be there with him.

The paramedics took him off fluids after a few hours. The Sally Face Killers never went on that night. Sal wasn't going to leave his post. He didn't leave on the bus, either. He sat there, sitting at Larry's feet, testing his pulse every few minutes while he slept so deep he was snoring and shaking the bed like a freight train. 

When Sal was a child, he did the same thing to his father. Check on his every few hours, wonder when his liver was finally going to clock out and leave him dead on the Lay-z-boy. Larry would sneak over on nights where it was the worst, holding Sal in his bed while he sang him to sleep. Sal's old cat would lay at their feet, and they would all stay awake until the sun rose or the pain went away. Whichever came first.

"One day, I'm going to take you so far away from Nockfell." Larry whispered into his ear one morning, in the light of the pink sunrise that trickled through the apartment window. He said it while wiping away tear after tear on Sal's cheeks. "I'm going to pick you up and carry you away into the sunset. And we'll go to Santa Monica Pier every weekend. And kiss at the top of the ferris wheel. And sleep on the beach. And we'll play guitar on the street for tourists, and we'll get Gizmo a friend. And we'll live out of the back of a truck so we don't have to pay property tax. And every single day? We'll watch the sunrise together. Every single day. You'll never have to worry about anything ever again with me, darling. I'll protect you from the entire world. I'll give you anything you could ever ask for." He kissed Sal's cheek so lightly, so delicately, like he was made of fine china. "You're the realest person I've ever met. You know that, right? You're a real person." He took Sal's hand in his gently, rubbing his thumb over the bruised knuckles. "There aren't enough real people anymore. But there's you. This perfect, beautiful real person. And I'm lucky enough to call you mine. And I'm going to consider myself the luckiest man to ever walk on this earth. And I'm going to rescue you, Sal Fisher. I'm going to rescue you from this hell. And we'll stand at the top of a mountain and scream at the top of our lungs and own the entire world."

Sal leaned over Larry's body on the bus, taking in his greyed-out and hollow face. "I'm going to rescue you, Larry Johnson." He barely whispered it loud enough to be heard. He used slender fingers to brush chocolate hair away from Larry's sleeping eyes. "I'm going to rescue you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the continued support! I'm so happy you all are enjoying the fic! All info about when updates will be posted is available on my Tumblr! The story is expected to be completely finished by the end of February so don't worry. No matter how long chapters might take to post, this story will never be abandoned.
> 
> Also shoutout to all the people cosplaying from this AU! Y'all are giving me serious life. I adore y'all.


	18. Chapter 18

“Sal Fisher, will you do me the honor of joining me on the best date you will ever go on ever?” Larry said from down on one knee, holding up a single red rose over the side of the bed. He was in a dark grey suit, eyes exhausted yet excited, and Ash had obviously done his hair. He could never achieve a ponytail so slick and neat on his own. He couldn’t look this good at all on his own.

Sal, groggy and half-dressed and full of morning-breath, suddenly remembered that he was supposed to go on a date today. He had known since Portland, but he must have forgotten in all the ‘boyfriend-almost-dying’ chaos. Larry had been recovering well, slowly but surely, but Sal hadn’t expected him to be well enough to get this dressed up, let alone be able to _plan_ a date, let alone able to _go_ on a date.

He pulled the hotel sheet close to his bare chest, narrowing his eye at Larry. “…Are you sure you’re okay with this? It’s only been, like, a few days.”

“It’s not like we’re going to run a marathon or anything.” Larry said. Sal gently took the rose from his hands and he grinned. “Plus, I took my vitamins. And drank a lot of orange juice. And I already packed my vitamins to take with us to dinner. I pinky promise.”

“When did you even get up?” Sal looked around the hotel room, which had somehow managed to look like a bomb went off after only one night here. Underwear, pants, a bottle of lube, endless socks and endless water bottles were scattered everywhere.

“Nine this morning. To workout with Travis. You were totally dead asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Sal's eyebrows shot up. "Nine?! What fucking time is it?"

"Like five-something."

"You've willingly been awake? The entire day after a show? Like actually?"

Larry nodded proudly.

“And where did you get this suit?”

“Travis picked it out at the mall down the street.”

“So Travis got you ready for our date?” Sal asked.

Larry shrugged. “Fair is fair.”

 Sal couldn’t argue with that. “How long do I have to get ready?”

 “About…twenty minutes.”

 “Fuck you, Johnson!” He whipped the blankets off him and rushed to the bathroom. “Get out! Give me alone time!”

Sal didn’t have Ashley to put him together this time. Usually, that would make him happy. He could just wear a sweatshirt and jeans and call it a night. But Larry was in a _suit._ And Sal refused to be out-dressed by Larry Johnson of all people. Larry, who lived in four year old jeans and sweatpants and tee shirts decorated with stains. He looked good on stage, sure, but this was different. This wasn’t for the stage. He looked that good _in real life_ now. That Sal was not going to look messier than him. Sal had to look that good, too.

This was all guess work. He scrolled through Ashley’s Instagram for inspiration after trying to look back at past Twitter photos of concerts he had posted, only to discover he truly was always dressed by her. Or he looked homeless. Who let him leave the house like that?

Then, he discovered he had nothing nice in any of his suitcases. He hadn’t exactly packed with romantic dates in mind, for good reason.

So he did what he could: throw on some three inch platforms, skinny jeans, a very tight shirt, a cropped leather jacket and call it a day.

It was nothing compared to how Larry looked. But at least he was hot.

“You’re so fucking hot.” were the first words out of Larry’s mouth when Sal opened the hotel door. He was sitting on the ground, waiting for him, and he stumbled to his feet the second he looked down at Sal’s shoes. “Is it too early in the date to ask you to step on me in those?”

“You’ve already ruined this. Let’s go before I kick you in the balls.”

“ _Please_ kick me in the balls.”

“Shut up!”

They left the hotel on foot, Larry refusing to tell Sal where they were going. It was colder than expected, the weather instantly sending chills all over Sal’s body. The cracked sidewalks made Sal’s legs turn to jelly, and every bone in his body started to regret his choice of footwear. Well, every bone except for the important one. Larry’s reaction was enough to make him keep the shoes on forever.

“How’s Maple? I heard she was at the doctor’s today.” Larry leaned over the sidewalk to peak at the trolley tracks. They started down the hill, away from the hotel and towards the colorful houses of the city.

“Yep.” Sal nodded. “She’s probably going to have to slow down soon. She might not even make it to Screamfest. She’s, like, hella pregnant.”

“She totally blew up out of nowhere. It’s like the baby gained fifty pounds in a month.” Larry said. “Is she okay with that? Are you guys okay with it?”

“We’re just worried about her. And she’s pissed as hell. She’s super excited for the little dude, obviously. But she loves playing. I doubt she’ll take her full maternity leave.” Sal reached out for Larry’s hand to help him down the steep hill, his ankles wobbling in his platforms.

Larry’s large hand held the other’s tightly, refusing to let him fall. Or slip away. Or anything. “Good thing we have that break. Me and you will be making cookies with Lisa and Maple will be getting ready to rip her body open. How’s Chug doing?”

“Nervous as hell. He wants to be a good dad so badly.”

“He will be.”

Sal looked up at Larry, whose face was perfectly outlined by the final rays of crimson sunset. The city lights bounced off of his cheekbones and lips as they slowly turned on, mimicking the stars in the darkness. The rising moon glittered in his eyes. He looked like he was made of glass. “I’m happy you’ve been taking care of yourself, Larbear.” Sal squeeze his hand.

“I’m happy you wore those cute jeans.” He turned to him and winked. Sal elbowed him in the side, making him chuckle. “No, but seriously. I’m glad too.”

“Is it getting any easier?”

Larry hesitated before shaking his head. “Not really. But you help. You help a lot.” He pulled Sal’s hand closer, so that he was pressing it against his heart. His black dress shirt was starchy, freshly pressed, feeling clean and sharp against Sal’s hand. It made him smile, reminding him of all the times that Larry used to attempt to dress nice for their dates. But for a younger Larry, that meant a flannel and jeans with less holes, if Sal was even that lucky.

“You look nice.” Sal said gently.

He smiled crookedly. “Thanks, love. So do you.”

They walked for a while, longer than even Larry looked like he prepared for, until they finally reached the streets by the water. A ferry boat bobbed on the waves nearby, decked out in lights of every color, just beyond a large ticket building and an old crusty pier. There was a line nearby, and crowds standing along rocks to look out at sea.

“Where the hell are you taking me, Lar?” Sal was already enchanted by the lights dancing off the water. The sun was almost completely gone now, and the whole city of San Francisco. The Golden Gate Bridge shimmered in the distance, lighting this weird teenage fire inside his head. “God, everything is so beautiful.”

“I am taking you on a tour of Alcatraz. Because I know how much you love spooky shit.” Larry put his hands in his pockets. He was grinning like an idiot. “A solo tour. In the dark.”

“You’re kidding.” Sal brought both his hands to his face. “Like actually? Like a tour? Like, of Alcatraz?”

“Yes. Of Alcatraz.”

" _The_ Alcatraz?"

"I'm pretty sure there is literally only one Alcatraz."

It took every little drop of self-restraint Sal had inside his tiny body not to rip off his face and kiss Larry right there, in front of God and man and everyone. “I am so in love with you, you fucking idiot.”

 “I know. There is a catch, though.”

“I’ll step on you as much as you want.”

“No!” He burst out laughing. “No. It’s going to sound a little weird, but I need you to trust me.”

Sal nodded. “You’re taking me to Alcatraz at night on a solo tour, I’ll trust you with anything.”

Larry suddenly looked very small and shy. He reached into his back pocket, refusing to look at Sal. The sound of the waves and crowd seemed to become overwhelmingly loud as Larry pulled out a small silver ring with blue stones. “I need to propose to you on the island.”

Sal’s stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”

“The tickets for this tour was sold out, and it was super last minute.” He was tripping over his words. “They only reason they gave me this time slot was because I said I was going to propose to you at the end of the tour over the ocean.”

“Oh…” Sal’s voice faltered. He understood the intention. It all made sense. But he couldn’t help but feel odd. It was too soon for the word proposal for a myriad of reasons.

“I understand if-“

“It makes things weird?” Sal retorted. “Yeah. A little.” He paused for a moment. “But I get it. I understand. And I still think you’re the sweetest person alive for trying to get me to see some ghosts so I am not going to complain or bitch. I’m going to take this like a man and have you propose to me on a haunted island.”

It was a con that Sal and Larry had played over and over after graduating high school. Want to get to the front of the line at Six Flags? Propose! Want a discount at the local record shop? Proposal time! It was dumb, but they were dumb. And it worked. So why complain? Ash was in on it too. Todd didn’t approve, but he had joined in at least once. It worked every single time, no matter what pairing was executing it. Even Ash and Sal had done it recently, for some dumb line at some dumb ice cream store in some dumb small town.

After all that had happened, though, Sal was so confused why Larry would even think that pulling this stunt now.

“I just…it was an instinct. I don’t know. We haven’t done stuff out together in so long, and when they said they were booked, I just defaulted into-“

“I get it.” Sal put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine. Let’s get on the ferry.”

Was it fine? Honestly, yes. Sal understood. He didn’t mind it too much. He was more scared for how he would react. How much would it trigger him? Would he break down? Would it ruin everything they had attempted to rebuild? It made his stomach churn.

The ride to the island was full of nothing but Sal rattling off bullshit fact after bullshit fact about ghosts and the prison and the island. With every single word, Sal could see Larry’s eyes getting warmer and warmer. It was as if he was falling deeper in love with every word that Sal spoke. Larry was leaned on the railing, his ponytail flowing in the wind, hanging on to every word Sal was shouting over the sound of the ocean.

The tour was everything Sal could have dreamed off. Dark, spooky, full of horrifying stories that made Larry squirm and Sal wiggle with excitement. He would squeal every time they passed something infamously famous. Larry obviously wanted to bolt. He didn’t do scary. He didn’t do spirits. He liked movie musicals and Disneyland. He didn’t want this. Sal knew that. And that is exactly why Sal loved him.

At the end of the tour, Larry did as he promised. They ended up on a cliff over the ocean, the wind whipping through both of their hair. It was cold, so cold that Sal’s visible skin felt like it was being stabbed over and over. In the middle of this freezing ordeael, Larry pointed out to the Golden Gate Bridge. “Look at it. The lights are beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Sal crossed his arms over his chest, shivered. “Real fucking sexy. Can we go?” He turned around and found Larry down on one knee, wincing at the rocks under his legs.

“Sal Fisher.” He said. “For the past few years-“

Sal mentally drowned out all his words. He couldn’t handle it.

But that’s when it clicked.

Larry said he had to propose. He didn’t say what Sal’s answer should be.

“God, no!” Sal cried, interrupting Larry’s prepared speech.

That was not what Larry expected. He tensed up, breaking character instantly. “Uh, Sal-“

“You think you can just take me to some random island in the middle of the ocean and get a yes? After fucking your _personal assistant?”_

This was _certainly_ not what Larry expected. His eyes went wide, his jaw slack. He had no idea what to do.

Sal continued to rant, snatching the ring out of Larry’s hand and storming past all the employees that were watching. “You don’t have a _job,_ you live in your _car_ and you _fucked your assistant!”_

Larry silently followed, stiff as a board. “Sal, what the hell?” He barely whispered.

Sal didn’t stop going on and going, getting more intense and wild as the story he was fabricating was getting weirder. “You’ve already left me at the altar once, mister! And once is enough for me!” Sal winked at him with his eye.

That’s went it clicked with Larry. His eyes started to light up, and his face turned mischievous. “Oh, really? Well, I think that you should know then. I didn’t just fuck my assistant. I fucked _your_ assistant. And her boyfriend. At the same time. And they accepted my foot fetish, unlike you!”

They proposed to each other in public to get free stuff a lot as kids. But they always joked about what would happen if one of them said no. Larry gave Sal a look full of pure love, childhood love, and said proudly, “I’m glad you rejected me, because you’re a slut anyway!”

This is what would happen if someone said no. It would make them even happier.

 They both were smiling like idiots, screaming at each other the entire walk back to the ferry. The employees were shocked into a terrified position, letting them pass and leave with little fanfare. When they got on the boat, they fell into each other’s arms, coughing in the cold, choking on their laughter. Sal couldn’t help himself. He lifted his mask just enough, and kissed Larry lightly on the cheek. “Fuck your proposal, Johnson.”

“I will gladly have you reject me on any haunted island, you beautiful bastard.” Larry took the chance to capture Sal’s lips with his own. He started to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue between thin chapped lips, but Sal pulled away.

“Nope. I’m starving. Food first. Then I’ll kiss you like I love you.” He moved his mask back into place.

“Your face is cold.” He whispered, moving his fingers from Sal’s chin down to his neck, brushing along his throat. It made the paler boy shiver.

“I love your hands.” Sal barely managed to say back. “I missed them.”

Larry just stared at him in wonder, silent and blown away by what exactly he was lucky enough to hold in his arms. The ferry ride back was full of just that: silence. No words. Just the sound of the water, the sound of piano music playing on the ferry speakers, and Larry’s hands around Sal. His thumbs slipped under his shirt, dancing over Sal’s skin as he continued to look him up and down, each time looking like he was seeing the sky for the first time.

He started to hum, low and content, leaning forward to press his cheek on Sal’s head, leaning him against his chest. They held onto each other like this, not caring about the others around them until the boat finally touched shore.

Larry, once again, lead them on a too-long walking adventure through the streets. Sal, once again, was clinging onto Larry for dear life. The infrastructure of this city was not suitable for high fashion. They were outside a tall, orange building covered in bright neon signs when Larry stopped them.

“Ta-da!” Larry held out his arms to present the restaurant. “I give you: Sal’s Private Dining Experience.”

Sal leaned over to look behind him. He was nearly blinded by all the blues and purples and reds that lit up the windows. “Wait, did you rent out the whole place?”

Larry smirked. “Done and done. And this is a very special dinner place, Sally Face.” He held out his arm. “May I escort you, birdy?”

Sal’s face heated up. “Don’t be lame.” He said the words as he reached out to tightly wrap his arm around the brunette’s.

 The level of niceness in the restaurant left bubbles of anxiety to fester in Sal’s gut. He wasn’t dressed for this, certainly. But that wasn’t it. It was the fact that their table was the only one set, only one lit, only one _anything._ Larry really had rented out the whole restaurant. It almost made Sal curious if Sanity’s Fall was getting paid double, if not triple what the Sally Face Killers were getting. Larry pulled out his chair for him, a gesture that made him feel warm but certainly didn’t help with his fears.

He fiddled with his hair. “You know, we’re dropping the fourth album, like, right after Screamfest.”

“Shit. Already?”

“Yep. Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, that’s not far away at fucking all.” Larry said. “What’s it called?”

“’The Trial’.”

He whistled his approval. “That’s intriquing. What’s the story this time?”

“It’s all about this murderer who slaughtered an _entire_ apartment building full of people. It’s all about his arrest, the trial – obviously – and his execution.”

“Dark. I like it.”

 “We convinced Ash to lend her vocals to the execution song.”

 “Hot.”

“Definitely. Speaking of song, we have to turn in our duet in a few days. Is it perfect? Do you think it’s perfect?” Sal leaned over the table, nervously picking at his nail polish. He hadn’t seen the finished product quite yet. He left the mixing to Todd and Larry, otherwise he would overthink it and ruin it for everyone.

“It’s gorgeous. I’ll play you Todd’s polished demo tonight. You’ll love it.” Larry turned around as the waiter dropped off two very large platters of sushi, all different types. “I can’t pronounce the menu, love, so please forgive me if any of this slimy shit isn’t what you like. I got a little bit of everything just in case.”

“How expensive is tonight?” Sal hissed. “You didn’t have to do this!”

He shrugged. “I know. That means that I had to.”

“I owe you big time.” He unbuckled the bottom half of his mask to make eating easier.

“You owe me nothing.”

It turns out that the dinner place was special because it had a projector, and Larry had requested for them to play the classic Frankenstein in the background of their feast. The second that the movie turned on, all of Sal’s fears melted away. “That’s one of my favorites.” He said wistfully.

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

Larry was on a strict diet recommended by the paramedics, and luckily fish and rice and edamame fit into that narrow little list. They shared each other’s food, fed each other like lovesick fools and held hands across the table while Sal rattled off fun fact after fun fact about the movie. It was Alcatraz all over again.

“You’re beautiful when you’re excited.” Larry had said, rubbing the back of Sal’s knuckles with his thumbs while desperately trying to keep up with everything that he was rambling on and on about. Sal could be a real motormouth when he wanted to be. Between stuffing their faces and talking about the movie, Larry would just stare at him while he watched the movie. Sal noticed, for sure, but he didn’t let on that he did.

“That might be my favorite meal ever. Without a doubt.” Sal brushed a stray piece of Larry’s behind his ear as they both started out of the restaurant. It was getting late now, and the streets were less crowded than before. Certain buildings had turned their lights off, and less cars passed through.

“Is it bedtime for you yet?” Larry asked. “Because there’s a tattoo shop across the street. And I’m officially twenty days sober. So I think I deserve a little gift.”

“I’ve never been in a tattoo shop before.” Sal looked up at him. “Ash tried to get me to come. But I was always too scared.”

“She’s close to covered. I’m surprised you never joined her.”

He shook his head. “Needles. Not yet."

Larry held out his hand. “Too nervous to join? We can go back, if you want.”

Sal mulled it over in his head. If there was anyone to take the plunge with, it was Larry. “I’ll go. But I can’t watch you get it done. I’m just going to sit by the door.” He took his hand.

“Fine by me.”

When they talked in to the parlor across the street, they were greeted by the sounds of Sanity’s Fall playing over the speakers. Larry turned to smile at Sal. “God, I love this song. Don’t you? The singer is just so talented.”

 He punched his arm. “Bite me.”

 The guy from behind the counter seemed to have heard them. “You like Sanity’s Fall?”

Larry turned around, a giant clown-like smile on his face. “You bet!”

The artist nearly fell out of his seat. He was blinking hard, reached up to grip onto the counter. “Wait…Wait, for real? Are you real?”

Larry laughed, holding his arms out. “In the flesh. And I’m looking to get some work done tonight.”

The tattoo artist just stood there dumbfounded.

“You broke him, Larry.” Sal lowered his voice instinctively. His entire demeanor changed. He had to become Sally Face, at least for a few minutes. “Nice one.”

He shot him a look from out of the corner of his eye. Larry noticed the change, too.

“Sally Face and Larry Johnson are in my fucking shop.” He barely managed to squeak out the words. Both his hands were tangled in his hair. "Fuck!"

It turns out it wasn’t exactly his shop. He was a new artist, and he was stuck at the graveyard shift until he earned his wings. He was practically shaking when both guys shook his hand, talking to him about what the pricing was, how much time they had, exactly what the deal was. He was still new to the scene, and was stammering the whole time. 

“I would be honored to have some of your art on my body, kid.” Larry grinned at him. “I’ll do a little thinking and a little searching and maybe we can get started in like twenty?”

“Of course! Oh, fuck yes! I’ll start cleaning up!” The artist grinned and turned to return to the backroom.

When he was gone, Larry pointed at the wall covered in flashsheets and portfolio shots. “Well, Baby Blue. Go crazy.”

“What?”

“Pick something out.”

Sal scoffed. “What?”

“Pick out my tattoo.” Larry slipped off his tie and unbutton the top few buttons of his shit, revealing a sliver of his tan chest. “Go ahead.” He plopped down onto the waiting room couch.

Sal stood there for a moment, bewildered. “Like…for your skin? Permanently?”

 He shrugged. “As permanent as it can be.”

 Sal turned back to the wall of flashsheets, scanning them with his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I have so many, dude. What’s another one? Nothing could go wrong.” Larry slid the suit jacket off and started to roll up his sleeves. “I want something cool. It’s going to go on my arm and everyone is going to see it, so make it good.”

He glanced over his shoulder to look at Larry. He looked absolutely unearthly, to say the least, with his shirt the way it was. It made Sal nervous he in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. Maybe it was the adrenaline from being in a tattoo shop. Maybe it was the fact that he was stupidly given the decision over something that Larry would – quite literally – have to live with until the day he died. “Do you have an idea of what you want?”

“Something metal.”

“No shit.” Sal moved closer to the wall and started to point at things. “No color?”

“Duh.”

He looked at a sheet of insect illustrations. That wouldn’t do. Larry hated bugs. He moved on to one of guns. Then the one of fancy old knives. None of these were Larry. “Does it have to be something from the sheets?”

“Or something of an equivalent skill level. We don’t have endless hours to chill here.”

Sal nodded, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “I have an idea. I think. Does it _have_ to be on your arm?”

“Where are you thinking, birdy?” Larry held out his hands. “Point.”

Sal walked over and took Larry’s forearm into his thin hands, sitting down on the coffee table in from of the couch. He traced over Larry’s skin with his nails. “Hmm…I just don’t think it’ll fit.”

“How big are we talking?” He raised a thick eyebrow.

Sal looked down at his hands, trying to map out the specifics. “Um…decent sized? I don’t know. Length of a pencil? Maybe?”

“What even is it?”

Sal held up his phone,  looking away. “Is it super lame and full of myself to want you to get this done?”

His face was turned back towards Larry’s by a warm hand. “I think it’s pretty badass. Plus, we can just tell everyone it was for the tour.”

"It's a pretty gay tattoo." Sal's neck flushed pink.

"Yeah." Larry smirked. "But we are pretty gay."

And that’s now Larry Johnson ended up getting Sally Face’s iconic guitar tattooed on his thigh. His guitar was red and white, decked out with silver and green mods that Todd had made their senior year of high school. Sal had kept it, and used it for every show. It was his. Purely his. And now it was going to be on Larry's body forever, in eternally permanent black and white. It took longer than expected, but it was worth it based on the pure excitement from the artist. He got to tattoo a rockstar, with a tattoo based on another rockstar, while both rockstars sat there and talked to him for a good two hours. He was beyond starstruck. Sal felt giddy the entire time. He forgot how good it felt to bring people smiles like this.

Also he definitely enjoyed staring at Larry in his boxers for a few hours. That was a plus.

He couldn’t watch the actual tattoo. It was too terrifying. The noise alone made him flinch. But he loved watching Larry’s face, flushed and sweaty and beaming with adrenaline. His ponytail was messy now, baby hairs and grown out bangs dangling around his face. Eyeliner started to smear under his eyes. He alternated between watching the tattoo and looking up at Sal with blown-out pupils and wet lips.

The artist tried to get Larry to not pay, but Larry insisted and paid triple. “The rest is a tip. Because you did amazing. And you deserve more than the night shift.”

They stepped out of the shop, the night getting colder and colder every single time they seemed to do something. The streets seemed to keep getting darker too. Lights were going off left and right. They had spent hours together. What time even was it?

“You have the same face when you’re getting tattooed as when you’re cumming.” Sal said offhandedly.

He blanched. “Shit. I wasn’t expecting that. You know, adrenaline makes people very horny. Is it time for you to step on me yet?"

Sal rolled his eye. “The art is good. I can’t wait until it’s healed.”

Larry crumpled his tie and tucked it into his back pocket. “I want dinner again.”

“We literally just ate.”

“I want mozzarella sticks.” He whipped out his phone. “Let me google for a bar that’s open.”

“Oh my god.”

“Withdrawal cravings are _real.”_ Larry pouted.

“You and Maple would have a lot of fun together.”

 They found a sports bar, barely open, nearly empty. The entire bar echoed with the sound of distant Fleetwood Mac songs. The smell of thick grease permeated everything. It reminded Sal of every single place the bands had eaten before going clubbing. The clubbing had devolved into desperate nights between Larry and Sal, the only alone time they got to fully be with each other and only each other. They used every second for themselves, knowing full well that come March they might not see each other for months on end.

Just the thought made both of their chests hurt.

“Have you seen that new little viral video?” Larry asked, mouth full of greasy disgusting cheese.

“The one of you fainting? Yeah. Everywhere.” Sal glanced down at the napkin closest to Larry, which he had covered in doodles while they had waited for his food. He was getting more and more into art again to get through the withdrawal. He was just as good as Sal remembered.

“No.” He shook his head. “The one from the angle that shows you flipping your shit. The Larryface fans are using that as their newest form of proof.”

Sal couldn’t help but giggle. He picked up his vanilla shake and leaned back in his seat. “Well, are they wrong? Look at how rationally Ashley reacted compared to my totally wild meltdown.”

“But to be fair, you’ve never been the rational one.”

Larry and Sal nodded in unison. “Todd is!” They said. Both of them smirked.

“Fair enough.” Sal turned his head down towards the table, looking at Larry through his lashes. “But you know what I meant. I totally lost it up there. I was scared.”

“I was only scared when I woke up and learned that the paramedics were giving me a fucking diet list. And it did not include spaghetti.”

Sal frowned. “Nor cheesesticks.”

“This is my cheat day. Let me live." He chugged his Pepsi. "Look, if I'm going to die then I at least want to die having eaten some good fucking shit."

On the slow, lazy walk home, Sal’s hand never left Larry’s arm. They were hanging off each other like teenagers at a school dance. “Tonight was fun.”

“Tonight was beautiful. You’re beautiful.” He smiled down at him. He suddenly had a shy look on his face, looking down at their feet as they walked. “I never properly thanked you. For giving me a second chance like this. I know I don’t deserve it. And I’m really grateful you’ve even considered-“

“You have to stop thanking me, dude. You do it, like, every day.” Sal said. “You’ve given me a second chance too. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Larry nodded slowly. “Okay.” A small smiled danced on his full lips. He bit his lower one coyly. “I can’t wait for the break. It’s going to be like old times. I wonder if that gross playground is still there.”

“I wonder if they ever finished the construction by the lake.” Sal turned away from Larry to look at the glowing city lights as they walked. The cold breeze kept pushing them closer and closer to together.

“Oh, I’m willing to bet that it hasn’t changed at all. At _all.”_ He chuckled. “They’re never going to finish that. What are they even building? A fishing hut? Just call it quits.”

“I wonder if the treehouse is still there.”

“I wonder if all four of our initials are still on that tree.”

“I wonder if the tree is even still there.” Sal said, finally spotting the hotel in the distance. “I hope too much hasn’t changed.”

“Nothing happens in Nockfell. I doubt a single leaf is different.”

 They went up to Larry’s hotel room, where Todd had left his laptop. They had spent Larry's bedridden hours working hard on the duet. Both of them were extremely proud of the mix they made. Sal was just happy it was finished. The lyrics had been hard to nail down. It was a ballad, but it wasn't. It was sad, but it wasn't. Pinpointing a sound that matched both of their voices after so long was difficult. Larry's voice had gotten hoarser, sexier, and Sal's was unused and abandoned. It was a complicated mess.

“Now…get ready.” Larry pulled his phone out and set it on the bedside table with his discarded suit jacket. He clicked the play button on the laptop next to it, starting to bob his head to the opening beat. “God, I forgot how good we did. Me and Todd killed it.”

“I love this backbeat. A lot.” Sal started to smile. “Nice.” His vocals started, and his smile dropped. “I can’t listen to myself. Ugh.” He had always hated the sound of his voice. It was worse now.

“Let me distract you, then.” Larry held out his hand for Sal. “May I have this dance?”

“Is dancing to our own song narcissistic or badass?” Sal reached out and lightly put his hand in the other’s.

He pulled him close, trapped Sal’s waist with one arm and tightening his grip on his hand. “Both. Now move, Baby Blue.”

He started to spin them, moving smoothly to the dance beat of their song. The words seemed to blend into the background as Sal melted into Larry’s touch. They skillfully avoided the hotel beds as they danced around and between them. As well as he could dance, Sal still had to glance around or at his feet to avoid tripping or falling. Larry, though, being a master of the universe, never had to look anywhere but Sal. His dark eyes stayed train on him, boring into his soul, reading him inside and out.

He spun Sal away from him, winking. “I love the way you look at me, birdy.” He pulled Sal close again, pressing him against chest and leaning forward to pepper kisses on Sal’s false face. “Never stop looking at me.” He whispered. He reached up with the hand that wasn’t on Sal’s waist to buckle his mask. “Let me see all of you.”

Sal didn’t flinch as Larry lifted his prosthetic away. He moved his eyes up Larry’s visable chest, up his broad tattooed neck and to his sculpted face. The way Larry looked at him made him flush. He felt his face and neck get hot. The hand that undid his mask moved back up to his blue hair after dropping his plastic face onto the bed. Sal leaned into the touch, his eyelid fluttering at the feeling of Larry’s fingertips running through his locks.

 “I want you, Baby Blue. In every way someone can want someone.” Larry whispered. “Tonight is easily one of my favorite nights of my entire life.”

 “Why?” Sal managed to speak.

“Because it was with you.” It sounded so cheesy out loud that even Larry visibly cringed at his own words. “It’s dumb, but it’s true.”

Sal’s eyes dropped to Larry’s lips. “Did you name the song?”

Larry nodded, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Tell me.” Sal whispered.

“’See You on the Other Side’.”

The blue-haired boy leaned forward, for once not having to get on his tip-toes to kiss Larry. His grip tightening in his bright hair, making Sal deepen the kiss on instinct. Larry held him closer, moving his plush lips in sync with Sal’s. They both gasped between nips at each other’s bottom lips, gripping onto each other and kissing deeper, deeper, deeper.

That’s all they did. Hold each other and kiss. Share oxygen, share tongues, share the same space in the universe. That’s all they needed to do that night. All they needed was the temperature of their bodies, the quiet passionate inhales and exhales as the only thing in the world became each other’s lips. They just needed to kiss.

That’s all they needed to do. And they did it until the sun came up.

        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never feel confident when I write straight fluff and this is literally 6k words and UGH. This was a beast to write. I hope you all enjoy! Chapter 19 should hopefully only take like two or three days to write and then...theres chapter 20. Which will literally be like 10k words. So get ready.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, cosplays, everything! I'm always so overwhelmed when I'm scrolling through TikTok and see a cosplay or scrolling through Tumblr and see fan art. I don't deserve it. You all are way too kind and too talented. I can't handle it. I love you all so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you!


	19. Chapter 19

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Larry whispered. “We can stop at any time. Just say the word.”

Sal shook his head. “I don’t want it to stop. I want this with you.”

“Okay. Just tell me if you change your mind, okay?”

“Okay.” He whispered. “And you’re sure Lisa won’t be home for a while?”

The brunette nodded, his hair falling over Sal’s naked body, tickling his skin.

“Okay. Then go.”

Larry nodded and lifted Sal’s leg higher, so that it was resting on his shoulder. His fingers traced circles on Sal’s smooth thighs, eliciting a gasp from the blue-haired boy. His dark hand trailed the other’s leg and took a gentle grip of his hipbone, slowly lowering himself so that he entered him. Slowly, slowly, being careful to not hurt the shorter boy. Sal’s face was twisted in some kind of unreadable expression, a mix of pain and pleasure and shock.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Sal nodded, his expression not changing. A heavy breath escaped from his lips, knocking his head back into the pillow. “Feels…good. Fuck.” That was all he could manage to say. “Just wait.”

Larry quickly nodded. “As long as you need.” He tried to act like the tightness wasn’t driving him mad, but Sal could read it. He was falling into his own pleasure, and both of them were going to simply die if no one did anything to stop them. Larry’s hands were starting to shake.

“Kiss me.” Sal said breathlessly. Larry didn’t hesitate to lean in, pressing his lips to Sal’s. It was strong yet chaste, both of them whimpering into each other while Larry started to slowly pull out, only to push back in. Sal’s lips parted into a desperate whine, giving Larry the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth. He reached out to grip the sheets of Larry’s twin bed, his knuckles turning blue from how tightly he was holding on. “More.”

The taller boy complied. It was slow, languid, and truly felt eternal. Realistically, it wasn’t more than a few minutes. Losing your virginity was never going to last as long as all the movies implied. But both of them teared up from the intensity, and both of them were groaning loudly, saying each other’s names like a prayer.

Larry tossed his head back, his hair flying back with it, as he reached to support himself against the wall as his hips started to stutter. “Fuck.” He hissed. Sal propped himself up with one hand, deepening Larry’s thrusted by moving against him. “Fuck, Sal!” He leaned down, grabbing Sal’s face with his free hand and kissing him, moaning into Sal’s mouth as his body shivered with climax.

That’s all Sal could remember from their first time. The shaking. The sweating. The hesitation. The desperation. Every time after that was quicker, hotter. More fucking than sex. Especially recently.

That’s why the night in Vegas had shocked him so much.

They had one day of nothing before everyone would get together in Los Angeles to check into their hotels. They played their two shows in San Francisco, and for some reason there was nothing on the schedule for the following day. So everyone collectively decided to drive a few hours to Vegas to party.

Everyone except Sal and Larry. But there was still only one bus, so what else would they do?

It was a bad idea to have a recovering drug addict anywhere near Vegas. That was a given. It was worse when Travis was bragging to Sal about everything he was about to do. It terrified him, both for Travis’ safety and Larry’s sanity.

Everyone else got dressed up and went to party except for three people: Maple, Larry and Sal. Maple stayed on FaceTime with Chug, overly excited to finally see him again in Los Angeles. Having barely any time together while the bus was getting fixed was murder for her. The second trimester is hard enough, let alone having to do it solo. And she was starting to have complications. She was having cramps almost every day. If she could last until Screamfest, it would be a miracle.

Sal, as badly as he wanted to go party with Ash and Todd, knew where he was needed most. Larry’s fingers started twitching the seconds they could see the city lights out of the bus windows. He had overheard some of what Travis had been saying, and it made him lick his lips and start to tug at his hair. He needed to be babysat. He needed to be locked away, kept safe from this horrific hell-pit of a city.

Sal knew his place. It was right by Larry’s side.

Sal and Larry stayed in a hotel room. An extremely fancy one. If they were going to be there, they might as well pamper themselves. They stayed in a suite with a huge master bath, bottles of champagne waiting for them on the bed when they arrived. Larry quickly took advantage of the room service, ordering anything that could fit into his diet. Sal just stole food off his plate and nursed a bottle of champagne, drinking straight from the bottle in nothing but a bathrobe.

They threw some random movie on the TV, but neither of them paid attention to it. Sal was too focused on Larry’s bare chest and sweatpants, and Larry was too focused on his food.

“I want to take a bath.” Sal ran his fingers through his hair, feeling his bangs tickle against his face. His prosthetic was somewhere, long forgotten about. He didn't  exactly want to take a  _bath_. But he knew what he really wanted and how to get it.

“A sexy Vegas bubble bath?” Larry said through a mouth full of steak. “Hot.”

“You can join me, if you want.” Sal started walking towards the bathroom, slowly undoing the sash of the robe with one hand, brandishing his bottle with the other.

“Maybe after this.” Larry took another huge bite.

That’s when Sal dropped the robe, revealing miles and miles of bloodless, milky skin. His joints instantly flushed pink from the air conditioning, but it didn’t phase him. He looked over his shoulder with half-lidded eyes. “Okay.” He said smugly, eyes trained on Larry’s wide eyes and slack jaw. “After that.”

He walked into the bathroom and locked the door.

It only took a few seconds for a tentative knock to sound. “…Sal? I can eat after.”

“Nope.” Sal said through the door, walking over to the ornate bathtub to turn on boiling hot water. “You have to wait now.”

Another knock. “Sal. Saaaaaaal. Sal. Sal. _Sal._ I want to come in now.”

“Be a good boy and wait, then you can come in whatever you want.”

A harsher knock. “Sal, I’m going to destroy you. Open the door.”

Sal poured in a whole bottle of the hotel’s liquid soap. And then a second. “Nope! I’m going to enjoy my bubble bath without you.”

“I’m going to rip your hair out of your head.”

He couldn’t help but giggle at that. He took a sip from the champagne. “Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Tell me more.”

There was a thud against the door. He was leaning against it. “I’m going to bend you over and fuck you like the bitch you are.”

“Hot. Too bad you aren’t in here. That sounds fun.” Sal tiptoed over to the door and silently, slowly unlocked it. “Too bad you can’t come in.”

Larry’s head leaned against the door, shaking it just a little. “The second the door is unlocked, you’re dead.”

“Keep waiting.” Sal was smiling smugly, glancing at himself in the large bathroom mirror as he passed. He hated looking at himself, but he took a moment to enjoy being tipsy and horny and vaguely confident.  He looked down his pale body, barely any muscle, barely any substance. Lanky and ghostlike, easy to toss around. Scars covered his thighs, and stretch marks covered his stomach. He always looked a little dead. But he kind of liked it.

“Can I touch myself while I wait or is that cheating?” Larry asked through the door.

 Just the thought went straight to Sal’s groin. “You have to wait.” He walked over to the bath and slipped himself in, melting into the burning water. Steam rose up around him, and his tiny body was almost completely hidden by the white, jasmine scented bubbles around him. He felt like a princess.

“How long do I have to wait, birdy? You’re killing me.”

“Until I say.” Sal was relishing the power. “Sing to me while I wait.”

“Oh, god.” Larry chuckled. “What do you want to hear?”

“Anything.”

“That’s too much pressure.”

“Sing ‘Baby Blue’.” Sal took another sip, sinking deeper into the bath.

Larry started to sing, his low voice traveling through the door. Every word relaxed Sal further, leaning him back deeper into the water. His eye fluttered shut. He started to hum along quietly, one hand holding the bottle over the side of the standing tub and the other tracing the porcelain with his nails.

He swayed his head to Larry’s voice, lips parting to sing wistfully along. He brought the bottle to his lips. “Larbear?”

“Yeah, rockstar?”

“The door's been unlocked for a while.”

It slammed open. “You bastard!” Larry’s hard-on was visible through his loose sweatpants. He stood there, looking at Sal. A smile grew on his face. “You look like you’re drowning in bubbles.”

“I wish.” Sal held his hand out for him. “Come over.” He waved his fingers. “Wash my hair.”

Larry’s face softened. “Wash your hair?” He padded over, barefoot on the marble floor.

Sal nodded.

So he did. He kneeled down behind Sal, elbows hung over the standing tub, fingers tangled in his aqua hair. The hotel shampoo had an overwhelming perfume in it, and it made Larry keep sneezing. He put his whole heart into it, though, massaging Sal’s head and lulling him into a peaceful daze. “Is this fun for you?” Sal could hear the smirk in his voice. He just nodded and hummed in response.

He felt Larry’s hands start to move down from his soapy hair, tracing the edges of his throat. Sal unconsciously leaned his head back, arching his neck to give Larry more access. His fingers trailing up and down, leaving thin pink marks on his sensitive skin. Soon, fingers were replaced by lips, and Larry’s hands moved lower, dancing over his chest. He was moving slow, antagonizingly slow. 

Sal broke when Larry's hands slipped under the water, moving even lower. “Larry.” He whispered. He turned his head and nuzzled into chocolate hair, drinking his scent. His head was buzzing with pine and vanilla.

“Yeah?”

“Larry.” He said again. He dropped the champagne bottle and it clattered to the floor, spilling what little was left in it. He turned around, swishing around the water and grabbing Larry’s face in his hands, pulling him in for a hard kiss. He leaned back, digging his nails into his jaw, dragging him over the edge of the bath into the water. Larry didn’t try to fight it, but he still let out a shocked yelp when he fell into the cloud of bubbles on top of Sal.

“It’s so fucking hot in here!” Larry pulled away to speak, but Sal barely let him. He held on to Larry’s face like it was the only thing keeping him on the earth’s surface. He tried to pull away again. “Sal, my pants-“ Sal pulled him in again. It was like he was drowning. He needed air. His lungs were burning. He needed Larry like he needed to breathe. More, more,  _more._ Enough would never be enough.

“Please.” Sal muttered into his mouth. Larry supported himself on the side of the bath, his hair tossing water everywhere. “Please, Larry, please.”

“Please what?” He pulled away and leaned his forehead again Sal’s. “What?”

Sal hesitated. “I…” He looked into Larry’s eyes. “I just need you, okay?”

That’s all he needed to say. Larry grabbed him by the waist, lifting him up wrap his legs around his hips. Both were soaked, covered in soap and bubbles, but they didn’t care. They were holding onto each other for dear life, kissing like it was the end of the world.

“Bed!” was the only word Larry managed to form as their tongues explored each other’s mouths. Sal nodded. Larry held onto Sal tightly, taking zero effort to lift the much smaller boy in his arms. Sal’s legs wrapped around his waist, his hard-on brushing against Larry’s abs, making them both shiver. Larry stood up in the bath, swaying. He pulled away from Sal’s lips. “Hold on tight. I don’t want to fall. These pants are like super heavy with the water-“

“Drop them.”

He didn’t need to think twice. He reached down and hastily undid the drawstring, dropping the sweatpants into the water. He wiggled out of them, almost tripping when Sal started to nip and bite into his neck and jaw. It was a bit of a slippery mess, moving from the bath to the bed, and they trailed bubbles and water the entire way. Sal wasn’t stopping no matter what. With his eyes shut and his arms around Larry, he continued to dig his teeth into his tan skin.

Larry was letting out small grunts of pleasure as he carried Sal to the bed. “We’re going to soak this thing. It’s going to be totally gross to sleep in.” He sat down on the bed and helped Sal adjust to sit on his lap more easily. Sal started to roll his hips, haphazardly grinding against Larry’s length, biting down harder.

“S-sal…” Larry stuttered out. “Hold on. Darling, hold on!” Larry cupped Sal’s cheek and gently lifted him away. “We need lube. And a condom.”

“No condom.”

“That is not smart.” His eyes widened.

“I want it with you.” Sal said. “Plus, I can’t get pregnant or anything. And I’ve only ever been with you, you don’t have anything to worry about. Please. I just want you.” His eye was on fire, staring Larry down with every emotion someone could possibly feel.

Larry reached up and brushed Sal’s hair away from his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“One hundred percent?”

“Yes, Larbear. Two hundred percent.”

He leaned back and allowed Sal to crawl over him to get farther on the bed. Sal adjusted himself, moving over to surround himself with the feather pillows. He watched as Larry went over to his duffle bag, digging through it for supplies.

 “Larry?”

 “Hm?”

“I love you.”

“You’re tipsy.” Larry chuckled, returning to the bed with strawberry-pink lube in hand.

“No, I love you.” He insisted. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Larry moved across the bed, his long arms and legs trapping Sal under him. “Now touch me.” He uncapped the lube. “Hold a hand out, birdy.”

 Larry squeezed the lube onto Sal’s fingers, leaning down to kiss him as he did so. Sal’s hand snaked under both of them, tentatively taking a hold of Larry’s erection. He moved up and down slowly, coaxing little moans from Larry’s throat. Sal started to move faster, aided by how Larry’s hips bucked into his palm. They were already starting to sweat, which wasn't helped by the hot bath they just left.

Larry reached down, shooing Sal’s hand away and taking both of their cocks in his hand, making both of them let out deep groans and throw their heads back. “Fuck!” Sal gasped, grabbing onto his shoulder. His hips jerked involuntarily upwards, arching his back, eagerly moving faster and faster against his hand. Larry took the opportunity to kiss Sal’s chest, trailing sharp teeth over soft skin.

“Larry, please. I want you inside me.” Sal’s voice hitched as a wave of pleasure rolled over him. “Please. Please.”

Larry prepped him slowly, taking care to stretch Sal out for as long as he could bare it. One finger for just too long, than two for even longer. He was moving his fingers in all different directions and angles, reaching into every part of Sal that he could. He was squirming, panting, gripping onto the bed and Larry and really anything he could touch. It usually didn’t take them this long to get to the fun parts. But there was something about the silk sheets and the sticky soap that made them just _want_ each other.

They didn’t want to fuck. They just wanted to make love.

The actual sex was slow, too. Slow and deep and hard, taking every bit of energy from either of the boys. When Larry finally entered Sal, both exhaled loudly and stood still for just a moment. They stayed there, trembling and panting, desperately debating about how quickly they wanted it to end. They ended up going slow, extremely slow, barely moving slow. It was torture. It was euphoria. They moved against each other, fully possessing each other. They worshiped each other. They kept their eyes locked through every moment, every movement. They were overwhelmed by emotion and feeling, making both of them have their eyes well up.

 They both climaxed with their names on their lips, airy and broken.

Larry stayed there, leaned over him, taking him in. Sal did the same. His hair was hanging down, surrounding the pillows around them. His large brown eyes were watering, misty and overwhelmed. His lips were bruised and wet. His neck and jaw was adorned in hickeys. Every single thing about him was gone. He was gone. Sal was the same. They both only had one single thought left: each other.

“I love you.” Sal said breathlessly.

Larry’s lips just barely ghosted over his. “I love you too.” He was still breathing heavily. His arms, shaking, finally gave out. He slumped over onto Sal’s chest, resting his head right over his heart. “Your heartbeat is insane right now.”

Sal brought one hand down to rest on Larry’s back. “Your fingers are trembling.”

“You’re sweaty.”

“You need to catch your breath."

"Don’t leave.” Larry said suddenly. His grip tightened on Sal’s body. He wrapped his arms around Sal’s torso, clutching him as close as possible. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sal tangled his finger’s in Larry’s mane. “I’m never going to leave you.”

“What do we do after the break?” Larry’s lips brushed Sal’s skin as he spoke. “You’re going to leave. I’m going to leave. We’ll be apart for months.”

Sal inhaled with a shutter. The tears that had welled in his eyes silently poured over. “We make the most of this, then. Don’t we?” He whispered. “We just do the best we can.”

It was a horrific thing to think about. He had just gotten his Larry back.  _His_ Larry. He was back. He was in his arms again, in his heart again. Everything had started to get fixed. And now they had two weeks until the end of tour. And two months of a break, where Larry might not even be around. Neil and Sal had agreed that Larry needs to go to an official rehab center, even if he is getting sober. And they still hadn't given Larry any hint of intervention. Larry didn't know it yet, but they didn't have two months. They didn't have the break. Sal did. Not him.

“Can I see you at least, like, once a month?” He asked, his voice small and pathetic. It was a shock coming out of someone as tall and large as Larry.

“You can see me as much as you want.”

“Will you want to see me?”

Sal nodded. “Of course. I don’t think a single day will ever go by where I don’t want to see you. There hasn’t been one in like…seven years.”

Larry placed a gentle kiss on Sal’s chest. “You’ve totally owned my ass for seven fucking years.” Both of them started to giggle. “You totally still have soap in your hair, Baby Blue.”

“I know. But I’m lazy. And I don’t think I can walk.”

“I don’t think I can ever move again. I’ll just have to die here on your chest.” He said. “I want to die in your arms. Promise me that when I die, it’ll be when I’m being held by you.”

“I guess I’ll never hold you again so you never die.” Sal spoke softly.

“Wait, actually?” Larry jerked his head up, looking at him with giant lost puppy eyes.

“No, you fucking idiot.”

“Yay.” He said contently. He lowered himself down again, this time putting his head on Sal’s shoulder. “You’re beautiful.” He was drunk of Sal's touch, quickly falling into a post-sex stupor. He was practically glowing, covered in sweat and shampoo, handprints of lube on his chest and arms. His days-old eyeliner was smeared, his weeks-old mascara all over his cheeks. Both of them probably looked disgusting. Trashy. Two heartbroken rockstars who looked like fresh corpses, sleeping tangled together in Vegas.

But Sal didn't mind one bit. He just held Larry closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20 is going to take like 84 years to write so apologies in advance for that. But we're starting to make PROGRESS, y'all. The end is near. Thank you for sticking with it so far and I can't wait for you all to see the end!


	20. Chapter 20

Sal groggily leaned over the balcony, rubbing his eye with his palm. “Why the hell did you call me so early? It’s literally before sunrise, this better be good.” The early morning air made his skin tighten around his bones. He didn’t even bother getting dressed or putting on his mask before dragging himself to the balcony of his hotel room, where he stared down at a very awake Larry Johnson.

“Do you remember what I used to say to you in high school?” Larry called up, cupping his hands around his face. He was decked out in layers, heavy jeans with a shirt and a sweatshirt and a leather jacket and a scarf. It wasn’t even that cold. He had his hair in a low bun, and by his feet lay a motorcycle helmet.

 “What?” Sal blinked hard. “What are you saying?”

“Well, we have a solid week-ish before Screamfest.” They had already been in LA for a week. It was nothing but sleeping and rehearsals. The bands had been split up, dumped in different hotels. It had been tedious, and Sal definitely hated having to sleep separate from Larry. He wasn't exactly to see him now, though, having woken him with a phone call that said to be outside in twenty minutes.

“How did you find out which balcony was mine?”

He put his head in his hands. “Look, dude. I’m trying to be romantic!”

Sal rolled his eye. “Fine. What do you want?”

“Like I said. We have a good week before we’re required to be anywhere, right?”

“Yes, and?”

“I got permission from Todd to do this.” Larry held out his arms. “Like four years ago, I said I was going to rescue you, Sal Fisher. And I’m here to rescue you. Do you wanna run away with me?”

That was all Sal needed to hear.

Larry didn’t pack clothes. He didn’t pack anything but his wallet. He had been too excited, and just left his hotel without a second thought as soon as he had called Sal. Sal was just as impulsive, but more intent on surviving. So he brought a few things, a few items of clothes, a wallet and a charger and his phone. The basics. He tossed it all into a ratty old backpack and jumped onto the back of the motorcycle Larry had claimed in the parking lot.

Sal hopped on, a half-fitting helmet on his head, terrified. “Where are we even going?”

Larry shrugged. “Somewhere good. Hold on tight, birdy.”

They drove all the way to the Mojave Desert, just to watch the sunrise together. It was all Larry’s idea. They went off trail, parking the bike in a small clearing. They curled up together on the dirt ground, surrounded by cactus and thorns, leaning on each other and whispering quietly to each other. Sal’s mask laid in his lap. No one was around, so there was no reason to hide. There was never a reason to hide from Larry.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this. I didn’t even know you actually learned how to ride.” Sal spoke against Larry’s neck. Ash had started to teach him before he left, but Sal didn’t know he had kept learning. And he was good, too. The ride was smooth. The wind over their skin, his arms around Larry’s waist. It was all too perfect. He loved the feeling of Larry’s body under his hands. He hadn’t been on a bike since they all lived in Nockfell, and he didn’t realize how much he missed the rush. “What’s the plan?”

“We run away and go off the grid for exactly seven days.” Larry said. “Starting at this very sunrise. As a…honeymoon of sorts. To celebrate the end of the tour. And to preemptively celebrate Sanity’s Fall kicking your asses at the Battle of the Bands.”

“In your dreams!”

“All my dreams have come true so far, Baby Blue. Why would this one be any different?”

“You’re so lame.” Sal pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“So. Seven days, Sal. All of Los Angeles is ours. What do you want to do?”

Sal leaned back on his hands, leaning his head back and allowing the sun to glitter on his face. “Everything. Literally everything.”

Larry nodded. “Okay. Everything. Might be a little fast paced, but everything. I can do everything. This is step one. Watching the sunrise in a fucking desert. Metal as hell, right?”

Sal threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah. Watching the sunrise with your boyfriend. Real fucking punk.”

“Make out with boyfriend in the harshest climate known to man is a more punk way of saying it.” Larry leaned in and trapped Sal’s lips, working against them fervently. He broke the kiss after a few moments, sitting back to admire the morning glow on Sal’s cheeks. “Come on. If we’re doing everything, you need to jump on the bike. We have to go.” Sal started to get up, but Larry grabbed his wrist. “Wait. Turn off your phone.”

Sal frowned. “Why?”

“Off the grid. Just us. Which means no phone.”

“What if something happens? To Ash or Todd or Neil or Maple or Trav?”

Larry raised an eyebrow. “Trav? He has a nickname now?” He bit his lip.

Sal’s face cracked a smile. “Are you seriously jealous? I’m in a desert with you.”

“Turn the phone off. I didn’t even bring mine!” He whined. He stood up and picked up his helmet. “At least put it on silent. And only check it before bed.”

“Deal.” Sal pulled out his phone and switching it to silent, showing it to Larry. “Happy?”

“Yes. Because this is _our_ adventure. And your early birthday party. And our first vacation. And a pre-game for my epic victory.”

The drive back from the Mojave was a long one. It was longer than the drive there, for sure. Or at least it felt so. They stopped a few times just to walk around, mainly because Larry was getting antsy doing nothing but driving. He was particularly happy to stop at Soggy Lake in Johnson Valley, just to get a crappy Twitter picture by the obnoxious sign. He was also excited to stop at some random wolf sanctuary he found. Sal sat outside the fence as far away from the actual wolves as possible, taking video after video of Larry with these giant and oddly domesticated canines. 

They hit San Bernardino in the afternoon, where Sal very loudly demanded they go to In-And-Out. “I missed it. I miss the fries. I want the fries. If I don’t get those fries in the next hour, I’m going to start throwing a tantrum.”

Larry had seen Sal hungry. Larry knew that Sal was _not_ joking.

They were both stuffing their faces within the half-hour.

“How goddamn happy was Maple to see Chug? That was a fucking adorable reunion.” Larry destroyed two burgers faster than Sal could even process. Their reunion had been adorable. Seeing them gush over her baby bump was enough to make anyone melt.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Larry pouted. “I wish we were that cute.”

“Eat my ass, Johnson.”

“Wait, really?”

“Don’t be gross!” Sal threw a fry at him. “You’re disgusting.”

They spent the rest of the evening driving to Santa Ana, where they slept cuddled up on a park bench, holding each other under the misty clouds. They woke up with cramps and kinks and cricks, but it was completely worth it to wake up to a beautiful pastel sky. They both slept better crammed on a bench did they did in separate hotel beds. They kept each other's nightmares away.

Somehow, Larry had convinced Sal to go to Disneyland the second day. They were nearby, they had the money and the time. Sal couldn’t put up enough defense of why they shouldn’t. It was certainly a sight to see. Sal, standing there, blank-faced and stoic, as Larry shook with excitement every single time they passed any character actor. Larry was the odd, heavy-metal, tattoo decorated, 6’4” toddler that sang songs in the ride lines and demanded to eat the cute foods and forced Sal to stay late just to watch the fireworks.

Sal was so fucking in love with him.

It was a shock to Sal back in high school when he first learned exactly how soft Larry actually was. Musicals were a shocking interest. They had decided to have weekly movie nights, and would alternate who chose what. Sal always chose horror. Larry always chose something with a lot of music involved. It was usually Disney or a shitty Broadway show, something that Sal would sink into the pillows and roll his eyes to. But Larry loved every second. And he sang along with lit up eyes and a sparkling smile. And that was always going to be enough of a reward for Sal to deal with it.

Larry also liked flowers. And he was a big fan of when Ash would style his hair in some style surprisingly feminine. He was good at painting nails, his own or Sal’s, and he slept with a nightlight until he was seventeen. No one could ever guess this while looking at him. He was a monster. A punk. A greasy idiot. A rebel without a cause. And it made Sal’s heart so happy that he was one of the only people in the entire universe that knew the real Larry Johnson.

That night, Larry and Sal stopped by a Walmart in Norwalk and stocked up on snacks and random bullshit that can only be bought at two in the morning. Larry also stopped by to grab a new sketchbook and a few sets of pencils. He had dived full-force back into art after coming out of his drugged-up haze, and he had started properly drawing again. He was back too sketching in his free time, always creating something. He liked to draw Sal the most.

“I want to start painting again. Maybe during the break.” Larry was fervently doodling a little portrait of Sal as they sat stuffing their faces with Lucky Charms in the Walmart parking lot.

“You should do the art for your next album.”

He snorted. “I wish. Red would be pissed if I even offered.”

They headed to Griffith Park the next day. It was Sal’s idea to walk up to the observatory. Online, it was supposedly considered an LA-must-do. They didn’t realize though that it wasn’t really a walk. It was a hike. And both boys were dressed for the winter, and were _not_ dressed to trek up a few miles up a mountain.

But they decided to go for it. They regretted it instantly. How can two people be so in shape from performing, yet so out of shape that a simple hike was the death of them?

The entire walk up, Sal kept getting lost in his own head. Larry was talking up a storm, unconsciously trying to distract himself from how sweaty and gross he was feeling. Sal was trying to listen. He really was. But nothing could drag him away from his own spiraling thoughts.

Neil had given Sal a few pamphlets for rehab centers. Him and Travis were trying to help pick the best one. Sal was pissed Travis was even a part of the decision making, but Neil brought up a solid point. They needed to get inside the mind of an addict. What better way to do that then have an addict around to help? Travis was certainly going to be shocked when they sat him down next to Larry and made both of them go. Two betrayals in one. Just what Sal was scared of.

They settled on this really cool place New Mexico. There was a pool, and lots of outdoor activities, and a pretty flexible visiting schedule. It seemed pretty perfect. Sal kept the papers for it hidden in his mess of a hotel room. They had prices lined up, and were ready to sit Larry and Travis down after Sal’s birthday to explain everything.

Sal was prepared for the worst. He had this gut feeling that Larry would just explode. His eyes moved over Larry’s sharp features. He could already imagine them twisted up in a sobbing rage. He just wanted to help him. So, so badly. But he didn't want to lose him again.

When they reached the top of the mountain, they all but ignored the observatory. They were too focused on the view of the city below, past all the trees and the hills. LA wasn’t a pretty city with a pretty silhouette. It wasn’t a New York or a Chicago or even a Seattle. It was flat. It was boring from above. It was grey. But you could still feel the tangible energy radiating off of it. There was a life in it.

“On the count of three, yell at the top of your lungs.” Larry said suddenly.

“What?”

“Look at the view and scream.” Larry pointed at the small buildings in the distance. “Look at them. Look down at all of them. And just scream at the top of your lungs.”

Sal followed Larry’s finger with his eye. “What do I scream?”

“The first word that comes to your mind.”

“You do it too!”

“Of course.” He beamed with mischievous energy. “The first word, okay? Don’t overthink it! One, two, three!”

Both boys screamed ‘fuck’ as hard and as loud as they possibly could, arms wide and heads thrown back. They received a glare from a family nearby them, but they couldn’t care less. In their screams, both released every fear they’ve felt. Every anxiety. Every little haunted stream of consciousness. It was released to the city of LA, in the form of profanity.

Sal couldn’t help but laugh. “I fucking needed that.”

“Everyone needs that. Especially with a view like this.” Larry spun around with his arms out. “Fuck this!” Larry yelled out again, doubling over with the force of his scream.

“Fuck this!” Sal echoed him.

The people around them weren’t happy. But they definitely were.

They sat there for a bit, sitting on the ground and watching family after family walk around them to take pictures. They overheard their discussions, their excitement, their complaints. It was nice to blend fully into the background, passing a can of Pepsi back and forth and no having to worry about anyone looking at them for a few moments.

They ended up renting a tiny motel room that evening so they could shower and wash their clothes in the laundromat. They had started to get gross. Well, actually, _Larry_ started to get gross. Sal had his spare clothes, and would change in bathrooms and wash up in sinks. Larry just let himself sit. His hair was greasy, his clothes were sweaty. But he was too lovedrunk on running away with Sal to care.

But Sal cared. Sal cared so much.

So they got a room. And they stood in the laundromat, Sal in just sweatpants and Larry in just Sal’s spare boxers, playing music off Sal’s phone. A half-destroyed six-pack of soda sat next to Sal on the washing machine where he was perched. Larry was pacing the room, swaying to the music and snooping in other people’s abandoned bags.

“How is the leg healing?” Sal asked.

Larry looked down, sticking out his hip. “Flakey. But good.” The guitar tattoo looked pretty perfect on his tan leg. It hugged his muscle in a way that made Sal’s heart flutter. “When are you going to get your first, darling?”

 “Who the hell knows. Never? Probably never.” Sal combed through his wet hair with his messily painted nails. “Stop digging through people’s shit, you’re going to get an STD.”

“That’s not how that works!” Larry reached into a machine and pulled out a glittery pink top. “I think I found my next look.”

“Shut up and put that back.”

“You’re no fun at all.” Larry tossed it back, slamming the door of the machine with a mocking pout. He walked over to his lover, slipping his way between Sal’s leggings and leaning over him. “Why won’t you let me be nosey?”

“Because I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to go through people’s laundry.” Sal leaned back to avoid Larry’s hair from smothering his face.

Larry chuckled. “You have no proof of that.”

“I don’t need proof to tell you that going through people’s shit is bad!”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead into Sal’s shoulder. He brought a hand up to trace the stark lines of Sal’s collarbones. “Your little scar is fading.” He lightly tapped the spot where Sal had burnt himself on prom night.

“Yours is still super visible.” Sal looked down at Larry’s bicep, where his little circular mark was pale and surrounded by ink. “Why didn’t you get it covered?”

“Because I like it.” He nuzzled into Sal’s neck.

“It was a dumb high school thing.”

“Yeah. But it was _our_ dumb high school thing.”

The four of them had _a lot_ of dumb high school things. The cigarette burns were the only tangible ones. The four of them had weird traditions, like eating full tubs of cookie dough on Valentine’s Day every year. And having jam sessions after one of them had a bad day. And breaking into abandoned buildings outside the city limits on weekends for Sal’s morbid curiosity and Ash’s photography. They once covered each other in as many temporary tattoos they could buy from the Dollar Store and showed up to school the next day looking like a child's sticker book. 

“Do you ever miss high school?” Sal asked.

“I mean…yes? I don’t miss the school. Or the age. Or the fact I was in high school in any sense. But I miss the people. And the feelings. Being in high school was hell, but it was a safe hell. A hell with a future. And potential. Now we’re just, like, out here. In the real world. And it’s scary.” Larry backed away from Sal, turning his attention to the beeping from one of the dryers. “That’s me.”

The fourth day was peaceful. Larry wanted to go to Little Tokyo. Sal wanted to go to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. They both got what they wanted. They both had a wonderful time. They both loved what they did. But this was the day that emphasized one singular fact to them: it didn’t matter what they did. It didn’t matter what happened. They were happy because they were together. This is where they were supposed to be.

They both loved the feeling of being on stage. It was unlike anything else. It was a rush that was truly one of a kind. But they were also a rush. They were one of a kind. They were a feeling unlike any other, and they couldn’t imagine losing that. They didn’t want to imagine losing that again. They were their own person shots of adrenaline, their own private lifelines.

Sal realized this as he rode on the bike with Larry towards Santa Monica, the beach in the distance, the sun starting to fall beyond the horizon. He had, quite idiotically, requested to sit in front of Larry on the bike. And, even more idiotically, had asked to be facing Larry on the bike. So he sat, idiotically helmetless, facing Larry and watching his eyes scan over the empty road.

Sal reached towards the sky, leaning back so his hair was whipping in the wind. He let out a yell, spreading his arms wider and laughing with his whole body. Larry kept moving his eyes between him and the sunset-soaked road. His face was pink inside his helmet, and he looked terrified yet painfully, desperately happy.

Sal stared at him, moving his arms to sit on Larry’s shoulders. He closed his eyes, leaned in and pressed his forehead into Larry’s chest.

They slept on the beach that night. The sound of the waves surrounded them, cocooning them and holding them in a safe hand. The sky was clear, and it was a navy blanket above them. The noise of the music and yelling and traffic of the city behind them didn’t even bother them. They were too busy being completely consumed by each other. Larry sang softly to him, rocking him back and forth to the classic Elvis lyrics that used to make him cry. Now, they just empowered him.

“ _Take my hand. Take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.”_

They woke up with the sunrise, tangled in each other, sand matted in their hair. They ate a breakfast of snack bars and soda before deciding to take the day to just explore.

Sal sat on a cement wall, watching kids funning on the windy beach. It was too cold to get in the water, and way too cold to sunbathe. But Sal was enjoying it anyway.

It had been years since Sal had gone to the beach to just go to the beach. He had been in passing for a photoshoot, or he had seen it from the windows of hotels or venues or buses or planes. But he hadn’t gotten to sit with his bare feet in the sand and the breeze through his hair in a very, very long time.

The last time he had gone to the beach was with Ash and Todd and Larry, all the way before their first album release. They went the spring before Larry left, driving from Nockfell all the way to Virginia Beach. Larry drove Ash’s old truck, and Ash followed on a hand-me-down motorcycle behind them. Sal switched between riding on Ash’s back and riding in the bed of the truck. Todd just hunched over in the passenger seat, begging Larry to drive safer as he gave directions.

“Look.” Larry appeared at his side, passing him a cold bottle of hard lemonade and holding out a tattered flyer. “There’s a bonfire tonight. Want to go? There’s live music.”

They had built a bonfire themselves that weekend at the beach all that time ago. Todd, somehow having knowledge of all things, helped Sal to build the perfect s’mores-ready tower inferno. Meanwhile, Ash and Larry were wrestling in the shallow water, freezing their asses off, trying to prove who was the king of the seas. Ash won, of course. She might not be a giant, but she played dirty. She was a scrappy fighter.

Plus, Larry had hair. She had just shaved her head for the first time, going from Rapunzel to a monk in seconds. She wasn’t afraid to grab his tresses and yank. He couldn’t reciprocate. He didn’t have a chance.

She hasn’t shaved her head since. Her hair was coming back stronger than ever, just above her shoulders and layers and lovely. Todd had started to control his curls and had an undercut that made him look like a real professional star. Everyone had changed so much. Sal felt something weird in his chest. A yearning for a past that never existed. A nostalgia that made him feel gross.

“I want my two years back.” Sal said suddenly.

Larry just looked confused. “...is that a yes or a no to the bonfire?”

“It’s a yes. I’m sorry. I’m just...frustrated. I want my two years back.”

“Oh.” Larry finally understood. “Me too.” He went quiet for a moment, fiddling with the flyer. “How’s Henry?” He asked quietly.

“Fuck if I know.” Sal unbuckled the bottom of his mask so he could drink. “I haven’t even talked to him in…fuck knows how long.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less.” Larry muttered. “Did he know about us?”

“Like the engagement? Yeah. Yeah, he found out. He visited me and Todd like a week after it happened and he wasn’t exactly happy.”

“When is the last time you saw him?”

“Like…two months after D-Day? Before we left on a proper tour. He told me that he couldn’t wait to see me a few weeks later when I finally grew up and came back for school.” Sal rolled his eye.

“Oh. Damn.”

“Yep. Fuck my dad.”

“Fuck my dad, too.” Larry lifted himself onto the wall next to Sal.

“Yeah, fuck _all_ dads.”

“I’m going to be the best dad ever. To make up for how fucking shitty mine was.”

Sal cocked an eyebrow and raised the bottle to his lips. “Oh, really?”

“Yep. My kids are going to adore me.” Larry scooted closer to Sal. “I can’t wait to do everything for my kid. I want to take them everywhere and buy them everything. I want to make them so, so happy. And I’m never going to leave them.”

“I’m going to support my kid no matter what they want.” Sal set the drink down beside him. “I’m going to cheer my kid on no matter what they choose to do with their life.”

“Amen.” Larry nodded.

They decided they would do the bonfire. But not before trekking down the entire length of the beach, exploring all the weird hidden spots they could. They never ran out of stuff to talk about. It seemed like no matter how long they were together, it was impossible to catch-up enough to satisfy them both. They constantly wanted more of each other. And it was so freeing to once again know that they had all the time in the world. They were back where they started. They were a pair again.

“Yo! Is that Sally Face?” A voice shouted from behind them.

They whipped around to see a group of teenage boys with skateboards. They had been walking for a while, and the afternoon air was finally about to get chilled again.

“Oh my god, it is him!” Said one with long hair.

“Can we, like, get a pic?” His friend said, bouncing with excitement. “We’re huge fans! We’re rooting for you hardcore at Screamfest, dude!”

Sal nodded. “Of course. Totally. Thank you so much for your support!”

They took many, many, many selfies. And a video for Instagram. Sal would have let these young teens do anything. They were brace-faced little boys, kids that could barely even drive. And Sal saw so much of himself in them. He was almost sad when the group hopped on their boards and rolled away.

“That was nice of you.” Larry was leaning on a palm tree nearby. “That was fucking adorable."

Sal shrugged. “Yeah. It was nice. I like them.”

“I’m surprised you said yes to the pictures. After that last bitch.” Larry walked over.

 Sal looked at the ground. “Yeah. Well. Whatever.”

“You know, I still think you should have pressed charges against that chick.”

“She literally had to go like totally off the grid online because she was getting so much hate. I think she learned her lesson. But big, organized meet and greets are definitely off the table for me for a while.” Sal shrugged. “I mean, she got her karma.”

Larry nodded, reaching over to subtly slip his hand into Sal’s back pocket. “You know…why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“The thing. The Sally Face thing. With the voice and all that shit.” He pulled Sal closer.

His eyes fell to the ground, looking over the cracks in the pavement. “I…I don’t know, man. It’s just easier.”

“Are you…like…worried about-“

“I’m not ‘worried’ about anything!” He cut him off. “I’m…I’m never going to be able to be me. I’m always going to be that guy with the face. And the hair. I was all throughout school. And this is like literally nationwide. So it’s just easier. To be Sally Face. Because people accept it a lot easier if it’s a character. If it were just me? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone would get that.”

Larry leaned in and pressed his forehead into Sal’s hair. “People would get it. Who wouldn’t _want_ to get you?”

“With all this mystery bullshit, they don’t have to. And I don’t have to worry about living up to a standard.”

Larry gently placed a kiss on his head. “Whatever you say, birdy. I love you.”

The bonfire that night was warm, which was welcomed in the brisk, breezy evening. The music being played by the small group of guys with guitars and amps was upbeat. The crowd of people was moving in waves, dancing and drinking and having the time of their lives. Sal and Larry spent a surprisingly long time mingling. They rarely got to meet new people like this, so it was nice to finally just exist in a space as an average person again. No one seemed to recognize them. If anyone did, they didn’t say so. So for the first night in a long time, they were _just '_ Sal and Larry who were visiting from Nockfell'.

The dancing picked up an hour or two in. There wasn’t really a set dancefloor, just the wide open beach and the endless sands. Larry had Sal’s hands in his as they swayed on the beach, moving their hips to the music. Larry’s hair whipped around in the wind, tangling up in the air and slamming into Sal’s mask.

Larry twirled him, kicking up sand in a hurricane around them. They both were laughing like idiots. Larry lifted Sal, continuing to spin around while holding Sal against him by his hips. “Don’t drop me!” Sal squealed, leaning forward to support himself on Larry’s shoulders. “Don’t you dare!”

 “I won’t ever drop you.” Larry looked at him like he hung the moon.

When he lowered him, they were pressed together chest to chest, not a single inch in-between them. “You can’t just keep lifting me. I’m not a doll.” Sal was shaking with laughter.

“You’re my doll.” Larry took the chance to lift him and spin him again. Sal threw his head back in laughter, his blue hair flying out behind him. “You’re my beautiful Baby Blue!”

Sal wiggled around until Larry dropped him and jumped forward to bury his face into Larry’s chest. “You’re so lame.”

“The lamest.” He kissed the top of Sal’s head. He started to sway them back and forth. “The absolute worst.”

They didn’t sleep that night. Not that they didn’t try. They posted up by a streetlamp near the beach, the bike leaning nearby and a sleepy Larry crouched over a sketchbook while Sal smoked a joint in the harsh light. The smoke rolled up through the eyeholes of his mask, and Larry was desperately trying to capture it in graphite.

“There!” Larry pushed the sketchbook over to Sal. “Look.”

It was beautiful. Why wouldn’t it be? Larry was a genius. He managed to capture every curve, line and shadow around Sal’s mask. He even found a way to make the smoke look like it was truly moving across the page. Sal's one eye that was visible in the image was so full of love and life and excitement that it made his heart swell.

“I want to keep that.” Sal picked it up and looked at it closely, studying the flow of the lines. “I want to use it. Can I make it my profile pic? I want literally everyone to see this.”

“I won’t say no. But also I won’t encourage it because Red would kill us.”

“Fair.” Sal pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked it on real fast. “Oh, hey. Trav says hi. He misses us.”

 He didn’t know of the other heard him. If he did, he had ignored it. He acted like it wasn’t said. Instead, Larry fell deep into thought before perking up again. He rolled over, leaning now on the same pole that the bike was. “There’s this club here that I’ve really wanted to go to. Are you down?”

Sal thought it was a really bad idea to go to a club. The drinking, the drugs, the smoking. He didn’t even want to think about the confusion going on in Larry’s head. But he kept insisting. Sal agreed to go for an hour. And the entire hour was filled with intense dancing and burning anxiety. Larry didn’t seem too bothered by the drinks around him, or the obvious pill-dealings in the corners. He didn’t seemed to notice, but Sal noticed, and Sal decided to do everything he could to make Larry stay distracted.

The club was pulsing with neon light. Sal’s sweaty body pressed against Larry’s, not an ounce of shame left in them. Sal kept his eyes focused on Larry, truly living up to the term ‘eye-fucking’. Larry was obsessed with it. “Happy early birthday, babe.” His hands rubbed up Sal’s body, tracing his nails over every visible inch of his skin. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

“Coming here was dumb!” Sal yelled over the music. “It’s so fucking hot!”

“ _You_ are so fucking hot!” Larry gripped onto Sal’s waist. He slowly moved his hips against him. “You are so fucking hot.” He repeated. Sal felt a fire start to build low inside him, and his eyes fluttered shut. Larry turned him around, continuing to grind against him, but he pressed his lips against Sal’s ear and brought one hand up to gently grip his throat. Sal’s pulse sped up so quick that he was convinced that Larry could feel it under his palm.

“God, you own me.” Larry said under his breath, right into Sal’s skin. “You fucking control me. I would do anything you told me to do.”

Sal leaned back into him, letting out a quiet moan that was drowned out by the pounding beat of the club. He reached up and tangled a hand in Larry’s hair, pulling just enough to make Larry’s grip on his throat tighten. Larry let out a deep groan. “I hope that every single person that hears our duet at Screamfest knows how much of a bitch I am for you.”

They left the club hand in hand as the sun started to come up. They rushed to a convenience store bathroom, where they had an unceremonious quickie against a dirty mirror. They showered in the sink, spraying down with deodorant and filling their hair with dry shampoo. When Sal checked his phone, it left him smiling. “Neil and Todd are jealous. They say hi.”

Santa Monica pier was the last thing that they desperately wanted to do. They had idolized this place as the peak of romantic adventures since they were young. It was a must. Even though they were heavily sleep-deprived, they couldn’t help but want to jump at the chance to go it the very second the pier opened for the day. They wanted to live out their teen fantasies.

“You need to cut your hair soon.” Larry said, feeding Sal cotton candy that matched his shiny blue locks. “It’s getting longer than you usually like it.”

Sal shrugged, mouth stinging from the sugar. “I might grow it out.”

“Oh. Really?” He grinned. “I support the hell out of that, man.”

They sat on a bench, laps full of junk food, ready to go on the rides as soon as they were done with their toxic breakfast.

They managed to blow hundreds of dollars riding the same few rides and playing the same few games over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. The rollarcoaster was dangerous, scarily not safe, and Sal almost flew out of his seat multiple times. The spinning rides and swinging rides were just as much as a risk, but that didn’t stop both of them from riding them until their heads hurt. Sal just held on to Larry, and Larry just held on the Sal. They would be okay.

They saved the ferris wheel for after the sun was set, after they had tried every gross piece of carnival food and every little bit of disgustingly sweet candy. They were totally sick to their stomachs, with painful feet and sunburnt shoulders. The ferris wheel was a nice break for them to sit and rest. Especially since they got stuck at the top when the ride broke down.

“The view up here is beautiful.”

 “Not nearly as beautiful as me.” Larry leaned back and put his arm around Sal.

“Fair enough.” He leaned into the other, letting himself curl up and set his head on his shoulder. They were too high up for anyone to notice or call them out or care. They were stuck at the top, the top of the world, alone together with the moon. “I’m surprised you wore a suit. When we went on that date? Because you didn’t even want to wear a suit to our wedding.”

“I stand by what I said. Suits are dumb. But I don’t know, man. I’m just not twenty two anymore. I’m willing to try more. Especially with you.” Larry tightened his arm. “I like you. A lot. I love you a lot. I would wear a suit to my wedding now.”

Sal chuckled. “I’m sure you will.”

Larry sighed contently. “I noticed that wording, Baby Blue.”

Instead of responding, Sal just turned up, slipped his mask up and kissed Larry’s cheek. He leaned his head onto his shoulder, taking a moment to just close his eye and feel completely safe. When his eye fluttered open again, he noticed that Larry was tapping his fingers together and shifting his feet.

“Are you nervous?” Sal asked quietly.

“Not about you.” Larry quickly responded. “Just…Screamfest. Fuck, man. It’s here. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“You won’t.” He reached up to hold the hand that was sitting on his shoulder. “I know you won’t. You’re amazing.”

“I don’t know what Red will do if we don’t win.” He said it under his breath, maybe hoping Sal wouldn’t notice or hear. He pretended like he didn’t. He just held Larry’s hand tighter.

The ferris wheel finally started to move again, slowly taking them back down onto the dock and into reality. They walked out of the amusement park, walking too close and shooting each other shy glances. They took a detour, away from the crowds and the main road, over to the railing that looked over the ocean.

They leaned over the dock, watching the stars glisten over the water. The nighttime breeze pulled its fingers through their hair. Everything smelled of salt and moonlight, and the sound of the waves filled in the slowly dying sounds of the crowd as people on the streets became fewer and fewer.

“It’s really nice out.” Larry said, eyes trained on the sky.

He turned to look at him, drinking in the sight of his long dark hair draped over him like a cape. “Yeah. It is.”

“Sal…” Larry’s voice dropped. “I was wondering…I know you mentioned buying a house. In Phoenix? And you wanted a roommate? Well…if you were still looking. I would be totally down. To live with you. If you want.”

Sal looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Do you still have that stupid ring from the fake proposal?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Why?” Larry started to dig through his jean pockets. "I left it in these pants after. It's totally in here somewhere."

 “Ask me to move in with you again. And do it right.”

 Larry tensed up. “What?”

 Sal repeated himself. “Ask me to move in with you again. But this time, do it like you mean it.”

Larry blushed a deep red. He pulled the ring out of his pocket, fingering it nervously. “Sal, I-“

“No.”

“What?”

“No. Kneel.”

He slowly got down on one knee. He cleared his throat, swallowed hard, then looked up at Sal. Larry’s hand was shaking. “Sal. Do you want to move in with me?”

“This isn’t a proposal.” He said. He reached down and slipped his hand into Larry’s to pull out the ring. “We are not engaged.”

“Of course.” He nodded viciously.

“But this is a promise. That we’re going to live together. And we will have a home together. And when we’re on break. Or we have a few spare days. We will come together to that house. And we will be a proper couple.” He slipped the silver ring onto his lithe finger, on his right hand. “I think that it would be good for us.”

Larry looked up at him with wide, hopeless eyes. “I never thought I would see you wearing this ring.” He tentatively reached out and took Sal’s hand. He ran his thumb over the ring, pulling it closer to him to see it. “It really does suit you perfectly. Damn, I’m good at this. I know you.”

“Do you want to get a room somewhere tonight?” Sal asked. “It’s our last real night. We have to totally walk-of-shame tomorrow night. I would want to spend this one with you in a bed.”

Larry nodded. “Whatever you want.”

“I love you, Larry.”

“I love you too.”

On the way back to the bike, Sal took the chance to check his phone for the evening. His notifications were blowing up. Twitter was a total mess. He had a few stray texts from Ashley, too, asking if they were alive. He responded quickly, wanting to move on to see what was happening that apparently broke the internet.

“I should have known.” Sal burst out laughing.

 Larry gave him a bewildered look. “What?”

“Larryface was spotted at Santa Monica Pier.” Sal smirked.

 “Shit. Did they see us-“

“Nope. It’s just a picture of us walking around.” He held out his phone. “Twitter is losing it though. Look. They think we were holding hands.”

 “Were we?” Larry’s eyes narrowed. “Because we haven’t been careful at all.”

“We really haven’t. But it looks like everything is fine.” Sal scrolled through his feed. “Lots of teens are losing their shit. But it seems fine. I think we were just super close.”

"Too close."

The last day was surprisingly cold. They woke up on the beach shivering in the wind, huddled up too close, tangled in each other’s limps. They drove further into the city, deciding to conquer the Walk of Fame for their final day. That was where they, surprisingly, got recognized the most. They took the most pictures, signed the most random bullshit. It was something the two boys hadn’t expected. Thankfully – all because of Sal – they had actually showered the night before. So they didn’t completely embarrass themselves.

The hickeys on Sal’s neck definitely made their rounds on the fanblogs, though.

“We should do something big.” Larry said. “For our last day.”

Sal smirked. “Oh, god. Like what? Get matching tattoos?”

Larry stopped dead in his tracks. His golden brown eyes lit up. “Wait.”

Sal held up his hands. “Larry-“

“Wait, really?!”

“Larry, I was just joking-“

“Oh, please! Please, please, please!” He took Sal’s hands in his own, practically begging. He was pouting like a puppy. If he had a tail, he would be wagging it.

Sal’s eye narrowed. And he went stiff. “You know what? Fuck it. Fine.”

 That’s how they ended up in a tattoo store, decked out in fairy lights with slow indie music playing in the background. It was a soft tattoo store, if there was ever really such a thing. It helped a bit with Sal’s anxiety. But he was still sweating and shaking, and gripping onto Larry’s shirt like it was the only floatation device in the entire sea. He was going to throw up. He was going to burst into tears. He was going to pass out.

Larry had asked the pastel princess at the counter for a piece of paper and a pen so they could figure out what they wanted together. She passed it to them and then left to find a free artist to do their work.

Both boys stared at the paper, then looked at each other.

“So we’re doing this?” Sal asked in a high voice. His fear was bleeding into every single syllable.

Larry nodded with pride. “We are making a dumb decision.” He looked down at the paper in front of him. His brows furrowed, deep in thought. After a second, he drew a sloppy star. “Draw one. Now.”

Sal did as he was told.

“Okay. We have our tattoos.” Larry held up the paper and nodded approvingly. “Nice.”

“What?” Sal was taken aback. That was too easy.

“I’m getting yours. And if you don’t chicken out, you’ll get mine.”

Sal leaned in close to look at the paper. “Why stars?”

“Because we’re rockstars.” Larry smirked. “Plus it’s small and simple. I don’t want you to get some big giant thing on your first go.

He nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I get it. I like it.” This was going better than he had expected.

“Where are you going to put it?”

 Sal held up his arms. “Thoughts?”

 “Your finger, maybe.” Larry took Sal’s hand in his own.

His blue eye read over Larry’s own knuckle tattoos as he did so, ‘HOME’ and ‘SICK’ on his right and left respectively. “Did yours hurt?”

“Not too bad.”

“But you already have finger tattoos. I want ours to be matching. If I’m getting it, I want it to be worth it.”

“Second knuckle.” Larry spread out his fingers. “Second knuckle is blank. So choose any finger, I’ll match you.”

They chose the ring finger of the left hand.

Sal had to close his eyes during the entire prep. He had to have Larry approve the stencil and everything. He just couldn’t bear to see any of it. Whenever Larry took his hand off of him, or walked a little too far away, or got a little too quiet? Sal would hold a hand out and whine. He was surely going to throw up. He was going to die here.

The pain was nothing that Sal thought it would be. It was a cat-scratch. It was rug-burn. If he didn’t look, he barely even was aware it was a needle. Or he _would_ be unaware. But the noise. God, the noise was terrifying. The tattoo probably only took a minute at the most, but it felt like an eternity. He was just sitting there on the table, face turned away, sweating up a storm. But Larry sat in front of him. And sang ‘Baby Blue’ softly. And ran his hand over Sal’s knee. After about thirty minutes, and a lot of panic from Sal, both of them now had matching tattoos. Larry had gotten a bit emotional and teared up while paying.

The aftermath felt like a sunburn. It was an odd feeling for Sal. He couldn’t even find the balls to get his ears pierced, but here he was. A tattoo. It was the size of a dime, sure, but it was real and it was under his skin and he had done that.

He wouldn’t have done it without Larry. He wouldn’t do anything without Larry. They were the reasons that they took any risks. They were the reasons that anyone knew their names. And Larry was truly the reason Sal was there in the first place. Not just in LA, but in the world. In the universe.

They spent their last night eating shitty Chinese food and giggling insanely. It didn’t feel like the end, though. It didn’t feel like anything was going to be over. It felt like the beginning. It felt like doors had been opened for them in a million different ways.

They arrived back at Sal’s hotel in the early morning, hours before sunrise. The drive was smooth and uneventful. Sal clutched Larry’s waist as tight as he could, nearly falling asleep listening to the sound of the wind and the motor. When they pulled up at the hotel, Larry had to wiggle to break Sal from his daze. “Rise and shine, darling. It’s the end of the line.”

“Are you excited for the show tonight?” Sal took off his helmet and shook out his hair.

Larry turned around and flicked up his visor. “Yeah. Of course. I get to play with you all for the last time. It’ll be nice. Now get inside before Todd kills me.”

“You know, you never told me where the bike came from.” Sal passed him the helmet.

Larry winked at him. “Rented it. Got to go return it in afternoon.” He patted its side. “She was a trusty companion this week.”

“I love you, Larbear.” Sal grabbed Larry’s hand and kissed it before jumping off the bike. "I'll see you in like twelve hours."

“I love you too. Good night!” He waved at him and winked before flicking the visor down and revving the engine of the bike.

It was as normal as if he was just dropped Sal off at his house after a date. It felt as natural as when they used to drop each other off at their respective apartments after school. They could feel that same warmth in their guts, and they knew that this was their normal again. They were their normal.

Sal watched Larry drive off into the night, and turned to go to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is 8k words of gay fluff for you.  
> It's all downhill from here! :D
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support! I've officially been working on this for a month and I'm so honored that you all have stuck with it for so long. You guys are amazing. Thank you so so so much!


	21. Chapter 21

On the day before Screamfest, the day that Sal and Larry had gotten back, a very angry, very frustrated, very bitter, very vengeful Red Endless stepped off an airplane at LAX and showed up at the venue where both bands were playing. He asked – no, _demanded –_ that Larry Johnson and Sally Face met with him immediately.

Both boys were absolutely frozen with fear.

“Why just them?” Todd whispered to Ashley as the two executed their walk of shame through the backstage halls.

“I don’t know but we’re praying for them.” Travis answered for her, also in a low voice. He shot Sal a tentative thumbs up. It didn’t give him any comfort.

When the pair got to the greenroom where Red was, he was behind a table. And had set up a laptop. He already had gone through a whole cigar, the butt left sitting in an ashtray. He was lighting his second. “Sit. Seperately. Now.”

They did so, shooting each other a look. A silent conversation.

_We’re screwed._

“I was going to wait it out. See if you two came to your senses. See if you all got your act together. But it only kept getting worse. And now I had to haul my fat ass all the way to Los Angeles to tell you to stop being such fags.” Red said it without even flinching.

Larry’s energy instantly changed. Sal felt it. He was falling in on himself. He started to scratch at the palms of his hands. This wasn’t good.

“What the hell do you mean?” Sal tried to keep his voice as level as possible.

“You think I just sit up in some glass building and don’t listen to anyone? You think I don’t hear the talk? What are the kids calling it? ‘Larryface’? What a fucking disgrace. You two are disgusting. I put you together to play up a rivalry. I put you together to _fight._ But instead you end up fucking each other in _my_ buses, in _my_ hotel rooms. You get to play butt-buddies on my fucking dime. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

They could guess.

“And you know what? Maybe I wouldn’t care so much if it was behind closed doors. If you all sucked and fucked and no one ever had to know about it. But you just couldn’t keep it in your pants. You had to make a fucking spectacle out of your little affair.”

He made all three of them sit through analysis video after analysis video. He made Sal and Larry read, out loud, blog post after tweet after email blast. Every single time they wore each other’s merch was highlighted. Every little bit of physical contact was shown. Every look was zoomed in on. Every joking kiss on the head or cheek was in slow motion. The sneaky comments in interviews, the Twitter fights that had devolved into flirting. There were even videos and pictures even before this tour that were too exposing. Larry’s heartbroken side-eyes. Sal’s nervous twitching and tells when talking about him. Even the interview where they talked about being engaged.

It was humiliating.

“Do you two have anything to say for yourselves?” Red’s voice was tight. Painfully tight. There was something terrifying under the surface that the two boys could feel in the air and it made them both shiver.

“We didn’t-“

“Larry, I thought you were better than this.” Red interrupted him. “I can’t believe I try to do one simple thing, and suddenly my two best moneymakers are fucking each other. It’s disgraceful. How do you think this makes me look, huh?”

“We aren’t fucking.” Sal said quietly.

“You’re going to look me in the eye and lie to me like this, Frankenstein? Really?”

“I’m not lying!” Sal clenched his fists to his side.

“I can see the hickey on Rapunzel’s neck over here.” Red pointed with his cigar at Larry, who instantly brought both hands to his neck and blushed deeply with shame. He couldn’t even look at Red. His eyes stayed on his shoes. “Also, this.” He clicked a file on his laptop screen to pull up a picture of Sal and Larry, bathed in blue light, grinding somewhere in a club. Larry’s hand was over Sal’s throat, holding him against his chest and moaning into his ear. Sal’s head was thrown back, face expressionless as always but his body did all the talking.

It was the night at the club here in LA.

Someone had seen.

Someone had taken a picture.

“Fuck.” Sal blurted out. “That’s…not good.”

“Oh, you think?” Red slammed his hand on the table. “Do you know how much money I just had to pay to have the tabloids not spread that like wildfire? I can’t have two fags working for me! My two superstars like taking it up the ass? Fuck no. Not my label. Not today.”

Larry tried to speak. “Sir, I-”

“One more word, Johnson. One more word and it’s over for you.”

 He sat back, folding in on himself. He hid behind his hair, still gripping his neck. He started to scratch at himself. It took everything Sal inside him not to go comfort him.

“We’re pulling the duet.” Red said.

“No!” Sal gripped onto his chair. “We worked really hard on that!”

“Then one of you all can keep it and sing it with your band. But you certainly won’t be singing it together anytime.”

“Please!” Sal begged. “Please, please, please. Give us one more chance. No physical contact. No flirting. Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you in the slightest.” His eyes moved down to Sal’s hand. “Take that fucking ring off, first of all. I don’t want to fucking see that again. Second, you two are never touring together again. This was a fucking mistake. Tonight is it. Last fucking show together. You know what? Larry, the duet is yours. It’s a Sanity’s Fall song now. It can make up for your shitty attempts at songwriting. It can give me something to actually work with. You pathetic piece of shit.”

Larry was sniffling now. “I’m s-sorry.” He barely managed to say it before Red slammed the laptop shut and made him jump.

“Sally Face?” Red kept his eyes on Larry. “Leave the room. I have something to discuss with Mr. Johnson.” His voice was too calm now.

“Sir-“

“Get rid of the ring.” Red said, emphasizing each word. “Get out of my sight.”

Sal left the room after shooting one more look at Larry. He waited outside the door of the greenroom, ear pressed against the wood, trying to listen to the hauntingly quiet conversation. He couldn’t catch a single word, and that filled him with anxiety. He stared down at his right hand resting on the wood of the door, the ring glimmering on his ring finger. He took a shaking breath and removed it, slipping it into his back pocket. His chest was tight. There was a shuffling noise, loud footsteps, and suddenly Sal was pushed backwards as Red busted open the door and stormed out of the room.

Larry slowly walked out after him, stopping when he saw Sal. He was slumped over with his hands in his pockets. “Don’t look so terrified. I’m fine.” He said in a monotone voice.

Sal narrowed his eye. “Are you?” He had tearstains on his cheeks and sweatshirt. His eyes were bloodshot. His eyeballs somehow managed to get darker.

He shrugged, his hair bouncing on his shoulders. "I'm fine."

He reached up to fiddle with his blue hair, suddenly remembering what he was doing before Red so unceremoniously ruined their day. “Did you still want to go back to the hotel with me to go get my bag?” He asked hesitantly. He, in all his glorious exhaustion, had forgotten his backpack with his concert clothes in it at his hotel room. "Maybe some fresh air will be good."

Larry nodded. “Yeah. Sure. It’ll be the last time we can probably ever take an Uber together so let’s enjoy it while we fucking can.”

The Uber was silent. Dead silent. You could hear every single time anyone even slightly shifted around. Larry was deep in his own head, tapping his fingers together and messing with his hair. Sal was the same, picking at his nail polish and tugging at his own shirt. They were too scared to touch. And they were both suffocating on their thoughts.

“What did Red say to you?” The blue-haired one asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

Sal saw the way Larry’s fist clenched. He was lying. It made his chest hurt.

“I’m here for you, Larry.”

“I know.” He turned away towards the window. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Sal said it like he meant it. Each word was filled with emotion.

It made Larry turn away from the window and smile at him sheepishly. "That sounded pretty lame." 

Now Sal was smiling too.

But they didn’t even make it to Sal’s room in the hotel until Sal’s phone buzzed, sending them both into another spiral.

It was a tweet from Larry Johnson.

Sal jerked back when he read the notification, stopping dead in his tracks in the hotel halls. “Larry, what the actual hell?”

He turned around. “What did I do this time?” He said it jokingly, but all joy left his face when he saw the anger in Sal's eye.

“You just responded to a fan asking you about me! ‘@SanitysFallOutBoy34: _How’s this: Larryface is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. I'm happy, why can't you accept that_.’” He turned the phone around to face Larry. “Seriously?! What the fuck, dude?”

“What?” Larry whipped out his phone. “I didn’t fucking tweet that!” He scrolled through his phone, his face warping from confused to a burning, stoic hatred. “Check your fucking twitter too. Red-Eyed Demon Records just turned us into assholes.”

Sal’s stomach dropped. “Uh…what do you mean by that?”

“Sally Face tweeted this like a minute ago. ‘ _This is real life, not a fanfiction. Get over yourselves_.’. Fuck…” Larry clicked off his phone. “We just totally ruined some people’s lives. Didn’t we? Like that was a little homophobic, right? Are we homophobic now?”

“Oh. Cool, cool, cool.” He started nodding, his hands getting sweaty. “Cool. We are terrible people that totally ruined kids’ lives. Awesome. Fantastic.” He started to giggle, which slowly devolved into a full on laughter. “Fuck, Larry!” He said through his laughter. “Fuck!” He threw his hands up.

Larry ran his hands through his hair, trying to form his feelings into words. “Can they, like, legally tweet from our accounts? Is that, like, okay?”

“When has any of this been okay?!” Sal’s laughter was slipping into hyperventilation. “It just can’t be easy for us, can it? Nothing can be easy. I can’t just fall in love and be happy in love, I have to have some capitalist prick come in and fuck everything up. _Again_.”

“Dude, you need to breathe.”

“I’m so scared, Lar.” Sal’s voice was shaking. “We, like, can’t do anything. We can’t fucking do _anything-“_

“Hey, hey, hey.” Larry quickly moved towards him and bent over to grab his face and look him in the eye. “Hey, Baby Blue, we’re good. We’re fine. We just have to be a bit more private, that’s all. Everything else will be fine. I’m not going to ever let anything bad happen to you. I would kill myself before letting Red do anything to you.”

“Don’t say that!” Sal covered his large hands with his owner smaller, paler, colder pair.

“Okay, fine. I won’t kill myself. I’ll just kill him. I’ll murder Red for you.”

 “Hot.” Sal rolled his eye. He sniffled under his mask. “Real cute.” They looked at each other for a moment in silence before Sal spoke again. “Are…you okay?”

 Larry’s eyes flashed with _something_ for a moment. But he kept his smile up. “I’m fine, birdy. I’m here for you.”

“I know you.” He whispered.

Larry’s eyes filled with sadness. But nothing else about him faltered. “Let’s just get you to your room and get you dressed. We’re on a time crunch.”

 Larry flopped down on Sal’s bed as Sal went to change. “You’re room is a mess! Do you care if I, like, put up a little?”

 “You like cleaning now?” Sal raised a brow at him while picking up his stage clothes.

 “Not at all. But dude… _ten_ chip bags? In one pile? Dude.” His brown eyes scanned the room. "We weren't even here for a week and yet you've destroyed this place. Do you even let housekeeping come in here?!"

"It's called 'depression'." Sal chuckled. “But fair enough. Do what you need.”

Sal changed in the bathroom. He didn’t actually know why he did. Larry had seen him naked before, obviously. But something in his gut, something about the conversation with Red, told him to change out of view. He felt like he was back in the spring of his freshman year, age fifteen and terrified that anyone would find out he had a small little crush on his best friend. Before, they changed in front of each other with no issue. But once Sal realized he had feelings? He would hide in the bathroom. He would change there. He would take extra time in their during sleepovers to polish his hairstyle, or really perfect how his glass eye sat in its socket. He was trying to perform and disappear into the background at the same time.

And he was back there again.

His stage clothes that night were some of his best. Ash had bought them for him. But he couldn't even manage to find a sliver of confidence within him. All he could think about is how hard performing with Larry was going to be tonight. They were trying to find the boundaries on a map without boarders. Sal gently placed his ring on the side of the sink so it didn't get lost in his laundry shuffle. His hand already felt lost without it.

When he exited the bathroom, the room was surprisingly quiet. Larry was surprisingly quiet. “I’m ready to go when you are!” Sal tried to sound cheery. No answer. "I'm all dressed. I can call the Uber."

Larry wasn’t responding. He was turned away, head down.

“Earth to Larbear?” Sal chuckled, taking a few steps closer. “Did you hear me? I’m ready to go back now.”

He turned around slowly, this odd distant look on his face. Something was in his hand. “Hey…What’s this?” Larry held up a crumpled piece of paper that Sal recognized instantly.

Sal’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

“The Sedona Freedom Center?” He looked up at Sal, pure broken betrayal on his face. “…Rehab?”

He held up a hand. “Lar-“

“Rehab?!” He face was switching from pure sorrow to unbridled rage. There was no in between. He was having a million thoughts at once.

“Larry-“

“This could ruin my career!” He shouted. He crushed the paper in his hands. “This could end me!”

Sal turned towards the door. “You know I don’t talk to you during your mood swings. I’m going to get Travis-“

“Of course you’re getting Travis.”

The piece of paper landed at Sal’s feet after Larry tossed it. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He kneeled down to scoop it up. He looked over his shoulder at Larry.

“Nothing.” Larry gave him a tight, angry smile. “Nothing at all. I just want to know, are you sending him away too? Or just me? Are you _just_ getting rid of me?”

“You’re being an idiot.” Sal said, his own anger starting to bleed into his level voice. “This is the withdrawal talking. I’m not talking to you like this.”

“But you’ll talk to Travis?! Oh, I’m sorry. Trav. Travey!” He said in a singsong voice. He was almost laughing about it. “Because he’ll always be there when you finally get bored of me.”

“Stop it! You _know_ it’s not like that!” Sal’s voice was starting to rise in volume. “Don’t say that!”

Larry balled up his hands. “Are you going to send him away too?”

“It’s not sending _anyone_ away! It’s getting you two help!” He cried. “Look at yourself! Look at how you’re acting.”

“Look at _you_!” Larry retorted. “You can’t just fucking tell me what to do. You can’t force me to leave. I’m an adult! I can take care of myself!”

Sal let out a frustrated moan. “You obviously fucking can’t!”

"I've been fine-"

"Because I'm your full-time babysitter!" Sal threw the paper back at him. "Because I watch you like a hawk!"

“It’s been like a month!" Larry threw up his hands. "It's been a fucking month! I’m fine! Why is that not enough?”

“Because it’s not just about a month!” He cried. “Or a year! It’s about forever! This shit is going to follow you around forever. You never just finish healing from shit like this. It’s forever.”

“But this,” Larry pointed in between them, “is forever! You can’t just send me away.”

“I’m not sending you away! Stop phrasing it like that!” Sal screamed. Larry seemed to snap out of his anger. Sal had finally gotten loud enough. “You broke your brain, Larry. You realize that, right? You fucked something up in there. And no matter how long we’ve been able to keep you clean, it doesn’t mean we can do that for the rest of our lives. You need doctors, Lar. You need help. Real, professional help. It’s the only way to make sure we don’t fucking lose you again. To make sure I don’t lose you again.” Sal was crying, the tears pooling into the base of his mask.

“You aren’t going to lose me.” Larry’s voice cracked. He hot tears pouring over his cheeks, his teeth biting harshly into his own bottom lip.

Sal shook his head. “You don’t know that! I don’t know that. You are going to fucking rehab, Larry, because I am _not_ going to be forced to live in a world without you again!” He screamed. “You are _not_ going to leave me again!”

He didn’t respond. He reached up with shaking hands to wipe away the tears on his face. He leaned so that his hair was covering him like a veil, hiding his trembling lips and darting eyes.

“Larbear.” Sal’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Please.” He walked closer, his hands outreached, trying to welcome him into his arms. “Please.”

“You’re going to replace me.” His voice was barely even audible. “You’re going to replace me and I’m going to be alone.” He stayed still, not reacting when Sal finally placed his hands on Larry’s shoulders, as light as a feather.

“I’m never going to replace you.” Sal spoke softly, rubbing circles on Larry’s shoulders with his thumbs. “You’re my Larbear. There’s no one else like you.”

He finally broke into a sob, falling forward into Sal’s arms. “Please don’t do it, Sal.” He said between shaking breaths. “Please. If I go away, I can’t see you. I can’t be with you. Please. Please don’t. We’re never going to see each other again after this break-“

“You know that’s not true. They can’t keep us away. No one can.”

“Yes they can! Trust me, they can!” Larry pulled himself out of Sal’s arms. “They did it once. They can do it again. And they’re going to keep doing it. Over and over. This is a ride we can’t get off of. And I should just give up now.”

Sal grabbed his hands. “No. No one is giving up. We can survive anything, remember? We’re in this together. We'll talk about the rehab thing later, okay? When we've both had time to process today.”

Larry looked at his feet and nodded. “Fine. Sure.”

“That’s not the answer I want.” He said. “I love you, Larry. We’re going to be okay. You said so. And now I’m saying so."

He nodded again. "Okay."

"Okay."

That night, both boys screamed as loud as they could. They weren't allowed to touch, and it was obvious to the audience and the other members that there was pent up anger and passion and pain that they needed to release. But they couldn’t. They just couldn’t. They were suffocating. So they screamed. They avoided each other, staying on opposite sides of the stage. They barely made eye contact. They were lucky they made it the whole set without breaking down into tears. It was, by far, the worst and most stunted performance of both of their careers.

And the internet made sure to make that known.

They ended the night alone, sitting in their respective hotels, miles apart in LA. Both of them reading the tweets and the blogs, silent tears falling as they text each other screenshots every single time someone was hurt or angry or complaining. The overwhelming negative backlash didn't exactly do anything to aid their tainted mental states. Something broke inside both of them that night. The emptiness in their beds felt heavier, and the silence was deafening. Both of them wanted nothing more than to be back in Nockfell, living together, maybe with a pet cat or two. They wanted a stable, safe existence. They wanted to be free.

With Screamfest in less than twelve hours, they both came to the same conclusion: This was it. This was all they had. And they needed to make it count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 22 is going to take a little longer than expected so apologies in advance. But I'm so happy you all are enjoying the fic! We're in the home stretch now and I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who's been sticking with it. You all are amazing. I have a bunch of new writing stuff planned to post soon for Salarry and I hope you all will enjoy those fics too!


	22. Chapter 22

“One day, that’s going to be us.” Larry said while petting Sal’s hair as his head lay on his chest. “Look. You see those two guys? I’m going lift you like that when we finally start booking gigs.”

“You’ll drop me.” Sal chuckled.

“Fuck no, Baby Blue. I would never drop you.” He tightened his grip on him. “Me and you are going totally win the Battle of the Bands. For sure.”

“I doubt it.” Sal pointed at the laptop screen. “Look at all them. They’re so much more hardcore than us.”

“Look. None of them have a keyboard. None of them have like any girl members. We’re unique. We have an advantage. The Sally Face Killers are going to be the best rock band to ever exist ever. You’re going be a rockstar. We both are.”

Sal held up his pinky. “Promise me we’ll totally tackle Screamfest together.”

Larry took it and kissed Sal’s head. “Promise. We’ll win the Battle of the Bands together.”

“I love you.” Sal rolled over to kiss him.

He was pulled from his memories with a start.

“We’re here.” Todd shook Sal’s shoulder. He groaned and rolled over in his bunk. “You should start getting up.”

When the two tour buses rolled up to the Fields LA on Friday morning, Sal noticed three main things: it was already crowded, it was freezing cold, and the parking arrangements had been changed. Now, the Sanity’s Fall bus and the Sally Face Killers bus were on opposite sides of the lot. Of course.

“Are you nervous?” Ash asked, swinging her legs off the side of her bunk. She had her chin propped in her hands, staring down at Sal with her large all-knowing eyes.

“Something like that.” He played with the strings on his sweatshirt. “I don’t know. I’m kind of pissed we don’t get to actually play tonight. Like why do _they_ get the duet spot?”

“You know why.” Todd muttered, working away on his laptop in a seat nearby. “All I know is that I’ve very, very happy that Neil and I are so unimportant. I don’t ever want to deal with what you all are going through.”

“Oh, please, be more forward.” Ash rolled her eyes.

“You’re not unimportant!” Sal said.

“Okay, let me rephrase: I’m so happy that I’m not the literal mascot for a record company. So I can exist in peace. Even if it’s only for a weekend.” Todd paused his typing for a moment before looking up. “I am seriously sorry, dude. This must suck.”

And it did suck.

Friday sucked. Plain and simple. It sucked because it was nothing but endless meet and greets and interviews. It was endless fluff pieces, photoshoots, and autographs. There wasn't enough water. There wasn't enough food. Everyone was miserable. 

It sucked the most, though, because Larry avoided him. On breaks, he didn’t come find him. When they walked past each other, he would ignore Sal’s gaze. At first, he assumed it was because of Red. They _needed_ to go back to hating. So maybe this was that. They were in public, after all. But then in private, Larry was avoiding him too. He would move away when Sal approached him backstage. He would flinch and run when Sal tried to talk to him. He didn’t answer texts or calls.

Sal felt so alone.

It was only a day but the withdrawal from having Larry not speaking to him was already too much. It struck a deep cord in his soul. He was living in the world of six months ago, wandering in a fog of confusion and emptiness. He was getting a taste of a world without Larry and he didn't want that for a single second. It would kill him.

Hearing Sanity’s Fall perform that night pissed Sal off for multiple reasons. A part of him was angry at Red, for taking the duet away from him. A part of him was angry at Larry, for ignoring him all day. A part of him was angry at the world, for screwing him over again and again. And a part of him was angry at himself. Because he had caused this. Him and his inability to stop being such a failure.

After the performance, Sal waited by the stage steps. He was ready to put on a smile, and to try and support Larry as much as he could. But Larry walked right past while staring down at his feet with blank eyes. Travis and Neil stopped to talk to Sal, so it wasn’t a band thing. It was a Larry thing. And it was going to drive him insane.

The entire night he quietly cried in the bus bathroom. Ash sat outside it, waiting for him. He refused to let her in. Or anyone in. He just clutched at his own hair and prayed that it would all be fixed the next morning. But it wasn’t. It was all still grey and cold.

He just wanted Larry.

He broke on Saturday after an interview where Larry didn’t even show up to watch. That was the least he could have done. He _knew_ there was nothing on his schedule. But he didn’t. He wasn’t even trying. He wasn't even going to stand far away and pretend to be his rival. He was just gone.

So Sal showed up at the bus. The Sally Face Killers played a whole set first that evening, a violent and vicious show to hype up the crowds before the Battle of the Bands the next day. It happened right after the interview. Travis was there, but Larry wasn’t. Larry was apparently hiding in the bus.

So Sal showed up at the bus.

He walked in, welcomed by Neil. Larry saw Sal and instantly seemed to fold in himself. Sal wasn’t having that shit at all. He asked Neil to leave politely, glaring at Larry the entire time.

Sal stood there in silence, arms crossed, glaring at Larry through his mask. Larry didn’t look at him, choosing instead to pick at his nail polish and scan his eyes across the floor. Sal started a moment longer before sighing and peeling off his shirt. He tossed it on the floor at Larry’s feet, finally getting him to look up at him. His dark eyes were filled with confusion.

“So.” Sal said. “What do you want?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Oh, so he finally speaks.” He rolled his eye. “What do you want? How do you want it?”

“What are you talking about?”

Sal motioned at himself. “What do you want? Because it seems like we’re just going to have to go back to fucking for you to pay attention to me. So what do you want?”

“You’re being stupid.” He crossed his arms tight against his chest.

“No, apparently not. Since you’re finally talking to me.”

“Put your shirt back on.”

“No!” Sal’s voice suddenly boomed. “No. I am not putting the shirt back on. Because you’re finally talking to me for the first time all fucking weekend. So this is obviously what’s happening and the shirt is staying off.”

“Sal-“

“Here!” He started to fumble with the buckle of his belt, his thin fingers shaking from the stress of having just played a full set. It hurt to try to use them. “Let me make this easy for you.”

“Sal.” Larry stood up straight. “Stop it.”

Sal finally got the belt undone, and then moved to the button and zipped.

“Sal! Stop!” His wrists were grabbed by Larry, who suddenly appeared in front of him. He has an expression on his face that Sal couldn’t read.

He let his arms go limp, allowing himself to be held as in he were in cuffs. “Do it, then. You take them off.”

“I’m not going to fuck you!” He cried.

“Yes! You are! Because it’s all we have left.” Sal’s voice cracked with tears that he refused to shed. “Because you’re getting distant again. And you talked to Red and you aren’t telling me what’s going on and you’re going to fucking leave again. You’re going to leave like you always do.”

Larry let go, his whole body freezing. “Don’t say that.” His voice was quiet. “Stop it, Sal. You’re tired.”

“I’m not tired! I’m right!” Sal jumped at the chance to start trying to get his pants off again. “This is all you fucking wanted-“

“Stop!” Larry whipped around and slammed his fist against the side of a bunk with a loud, painful crack. “Shit.” He muttered, cradling his hand. “Just shut up. Please. You don’t know anything.”

“Then fucking tell me!” Sal reached out to try to grab Larry’s arms. “Talk to me! Give me something!”

Larry moved away, slipping out of his grasp. He took a deep breath, exhaling loudly and looking away. “They’re, uh, sending us away. In March.” He said. “Red told me on Thursday when he was here but I just…I couldn’t tell you. I was scared-“

“What do you mean ‘sending you away’?” His brow furrowed.

“Like on tour. In Europe. For like a year.”

Sal got dizzy just at the idea. “Can he even do that? Your contract is up in July-“

Larry held out his arms in defeat. A drop of blood fell from the hand he punched with. “I have to sign with him again, Sal. You know that isn’t even a question.”

Sal’s hands started shaking. He could feel something thick growing in his throat. “So you’re leaving again?”

Larry just shook his head, tears already present in his eyes. “I’m chasing my dream, Sal.”

“You’re my dream!” Sal blurted out. “And…You made me think I was yours.”

“You are!”

“Then don’t sign and stay!” He cried.

Larry looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “Sal, you’re asking me to give up my life’s goal. I…I can’t. I can’t leave Travis and Neil! What if I asked you to leave the Sally Face Killers?”

He hesitated. He couldn’t form a response.

“Exactly.” Larry smiled tightly. “Exactly, Sal.”

“Larry, I-“

“I’m not leaving you. But I’m going on a work trip. A really long work trip. And you either accept that or move on. Because I love you, Sal. But I can’t just give up my career for you.” His tears finally fell, streaking eyeliner across his dirty cheeks.

A wave of anger crashed over Sal. “It was supposed to be our tour. Our dream. Our career. Remember?”

Larry nodded. “Trust me. Every time I see you, I remember I’m a fuck up. You don’t have to explain it to me.” He went back to clutching his hand and leaning against the bunks of the bus. “I’m extremely aware that I ruined both of our lives.”

Sal nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”

“You don’t have to try to forgive me, you know.” He said. “You don’t have to try to make this work. Because you obviously seem to be struggling.”

He went to speak but no words came out. His looked down at his hands, red and raw and bruised. The black star was still fresh on his finger. It was a part of his skin now, though. He barely noticed it unless he wanted to. It was in his body now.

“No. It’s stuck. You’re stuck. You’re a part of me, Larry. I don’t _want_ to leave you.” His voice hitched. “Do you want to leave me?”

“No. But…but maybe we were too fast. Or dumb. Or something.”

“Or something?” Sal’s voice cracked.

“Look, I don’t know!” Larry held up his hands. “I’m just as lost as you are. Everything hurts. I’m in love with you and everything hurts. I don’t know what to do. I want to be with you. I want to be with you so badly. But these are our careers. And just…fuck, dude. Fuck! Everything’s so confusing!” He pointed at Sal accusingly. “And then you’re trying to send me away to fucking rehab so I literally won’t see you even after this. How can we make this work?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Sal reached up and unbuckled his mask slowly. He needed room to breathe. He needed space. He clutched his prosthetic to his bare chest. “I don’t know what to do.” He looked up at Larry with broken eyes. “Are we…over? Are we going to be over?”

Larry shook his head. “I can’t handle that. Not again.”

“Then what do we do?” He said.

Larry pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know, dude. I don’t know. I just need to get through this weekend. Please. I need time to think.”

He nodded back silently. Tears ran in a consistent silent stream down his face. He was shaking. He was on the verge of shattering. And so was Larry.

“I love you, Sal.” He said. He didn’t move closer. He didn’t try to touch him. “I love you. Please. You have to believe that. I love you. And I’m not planning on breaking up with you any time soon. I’m not planning on leaving you.”

“I love you too.” Sal reached down to gingerly pick his shirt off the floor. “We need to talk. Sunday night. Okay?”

“Okay. Whatever you want.”

Sal stood there still for a second. “I…I can’t move. I’m…really not here right now.”

“Same.” Larry said. He turned to one of the bunks and sat down. “You can lay down. If you want. With me. Or not. We could cuddle maybe? If you want. No one should be able to see us here.”

He didn’t speak. He just nodded. He walked over and slowly lay himself onto one of the bunks. It must have been Neil’s. It was the only one that was made. He was fucking that up now. He still held his mask, but he couldn’t bear to put it down. Or put it on. He needed to be free. He needed to be seen.

Larry lay next to him, moving slowly. He was ready to leave the second Sal told him. Sal could tell. But he didn’t stop him. He let Larry curl up next to him, hair fanned out in a brunette wave, syncing their breathing and slowly reaching a warm arm to wrap over Sal’s stomach. Sal stared at the ceiling. Larry stared at him.

“I think you fucked me up.” Sal whispered. “And how I feel. And how I see relationships.”

Larry shifted his eyes down to Sal’s lips. “I fucked myself up, too.”

“We should get a couple’s therapist.”

“Probably.” He said. “I’d be down for that.”

That made Sal chuckle. “Down for that. Yeah. I would hope so.”

“We can talk about it all when this weekend is over. And I’ll be open to anything. I promise.”

“Even rehab?”

His eyes darted away. “We can talk about it.”

Sal would take it. It was better than a straight no. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Saturday ending meant Sunday beginning. And that meant the Battle of the Bands.

It started at noon. Sanity’s Fall went on around seven. And the Sally Face Killers weren’t far behind.

“Maple, are you sure about this?” Ash asked quietly. “I mean…you were pretty sick this morning.” It was true. Maple had been getting sicker and sicker. More cramps, more fevers. Her pregnancy was truly becoming a rollarcoaster.

“It’s too late to worry about that.” Sal said. “We go on in...literally five minutes.”

“Well, I’m worried!” Ash cried.

“You’re going to have to kill me to not let me on stage.” Maple said.

“Here. How about we have to sit. You can play, but you have to sit.” Todd said.

She rolled her eyes. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll take it. But you all are NOT winning Screamfest without me.”

“That sentence should have ended with ‘not winning Screamfest’.” Travis appeared behind her. “It’s nerve-wracking as fuck out there. Good luck to you guys.” He tentatively gave a thumbs up to Maple

“You all are the ones that’ll need the good luck.” Todd said. He reached over Sal and shook Travis’ hand, grinning at him. “See you all in a bit.”

Sal felt a hand on his back. “Hey.” A low voice whispered. It was Larry. He didn’t even need to turn to see that. His hand ran up Sal’s back. “Break a leg.” Larry said. He squeezed Sal’s shoulder. “You got this, okay?”

Sal nodded, still not looking at him. “I’m terrified.”

“Don’t be. You’ve got this.” Larry leaned in closer. “I love you.”

Sal took a deep breath, closed his eyes and raised his hand to just barely ghost it over Larry’s. “I love you too.”

Sal was trembling while he walked on stage. His pallid skin nearly glowed in the bright stage lights, and he instinctively started to reach for Todd’s arm for comfort. They both walked up to the mic, Sal swinging his guitar to the front. “So, Toddy.” His voice was shaking. But he tried to sound confident. “Who are we?”

“The Sally Face Killers!” Todd cried.

“And what the fuck are we doing here?!”

“We’re here to fucking win!” He exclaimed.

Ash slammed down onto the drums behind them, and they were off.

They had ten minutes. Ten minutes to make a fantastic impression. They chose three songs that blended easily into each other and just played straight through. No breathing, no breaks. Sal’s fingers felt like they were going to break. His chest was going to burst.

The whole thing was a blur. He couldn’t truly remember how the performance went. It was similar for everyone. They had blacked out into the music. It was as if they walked on, then walked right back off.

“The amount of adrenaline I just felt might actually kill me.” Ash was speaking too quickly. “My heart is literally skipping beats.”

“I’m going to throw up.” Maple said too calmly, handing her bass to Todd and then waddling off to find Chug and puke her guts out.

“Jesus.” Sal’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “I…I need to ice.”

“Let me help.” Larry walked over sheepishly, holding out his hands. “You guys did absolutely amazing, by the way.”

He couldn’t process what was going on still, but Larry was a point of clarity. “Okay. Lead me.”

Moments later, he was in the Sanity’s Fall bus with Larry. His hands were in a bowl of ice. And he didn’t know how he got there. Or how he was seating in the seats. But Larry was next to him. And that’s all he needed to ground him.

“I need you so much.” Sal said suddenly. “I think I’m dying.”

“You aren’t dying. You’re panicking.” Larry said calmly. “It’s normal. Just breathe. Focus on the ice.”

Sal closed his eye. “I’m sleepy. But also hyper. And hungry. So hungry.”

“Yeah. Understandable.” Larry laughed. “Just breathe.”

They sat in silence for a bit before Larry leaned over and kissed Sal’s head. “You deserve it. If you win.”

“No.” Sal shook his head. “You deserve it. Everyone deserves it. Fuck.”

“Fuck.” Larry nodded in agreement.

“No matter who wins, we love each other.” Sal said. He held up his bruised pinky, dripping in freezing water. “Promise.”

“Of course.” Larry took it in his own. “We love each other.” He brought Sal’s hand up to his lips. “I love you.” He spoke into his hand.

“We should go back.” Sal said.

And they did. After Larry forced him to sit and ice his hands for at least an hour. He needed it. His knuckles were jabbing out in a disgusting, inhuman way. The ice was going to save him. He needed to do this more often.

They walked across the fields. They went to wait with the other bands. They networked a little, shared some advice. But mainly, they all waited in the wings for the midnight announcement of who did the best. Who was worthy. Who was going to achieve their childhood dreams. Who fucking won.

It took hours. It took too long. But it was finally announced, with every band on stage lined up like it was an execution. Everyone was holding onto each other as if they could burn up and dissolve any second. They barely listened to the introductions and the niceties. They barely listened to the crowd. Their ears were full of their blood roaring in their veins.

They were all waiting for those magic words.

"The winner of this years Screamfest Battle of the Bands..."

Fuck.

“THE SALLY FACE KILLERS!”

The scream that all four of them let out was deafening. Ash instantly tackled Maple into a hug. Todd bent down, grabbed Sal by the waist and lifted him into the air. They were all falling over each other, laughing and crying and losing their minds.

The Sally Face Killers had won Screamfest.

In the back of Sal’s head, he could see himself sitting on his bed in middle school, livestreaming Screamfest while he plucked away at his guitar. He could see the moving boxes in the corner of his eye. He could hear his dad on the phone with the movers. They would be leaving any day now. But Sal wasn’t thinking about the move, because he was safe. He was watching Screamfest and he was safe.

And now he had won the Battle of the Bands.

He was crying from the joy.

Sanity’s Fall walked over to hug them, congratulate them, all of that. Travis gave Sal the biggest, tightest hug he could muster. Neil fistbumped Sal and Ash while he hugged Todd against him and quietly whispered the sweetest words of support in his ear. Larry went down the line and lifted everyone into a bear hug, starting with a gentle one with Maple and ending with him squeezing the life out of Todd and Ash. He paused in front of Sal, his eyes darting out it the crowd nervously before holding out his hand. “Good job, Sally Face.”

Sal looked down at it, a weird pain in his chest blooming. He shook the hand back. “You put up a solid fight, Johnson.”

Larry smiled at him, a deep sadness burning in his eyes. “I’ll see you off stage?” He whispered. “I’m proud of you, rockstar.”

Sanity’s Fall left the stage and the announcer shoved the mic into Todd’s hands. “Is there anything you want to say to us?”

Todd stood there for a moment. “I’m still in shock, honestly.” His words drowned into the back of Sal’s mind as he suddenly had an epiphany. He had this feeling, this memory in his chest and this dizziness in his head and he knew what he had to do. He needed to do it for himself. And he needed to do it for everyone else too.

He needed to be seen.

When Todd was done talking, Sal snatched mic. “Excuse me. Sorry! I, uh…I have something I need to do.” He gripped the mic tightly. “When I was fifteen, I remember watching my first Screamfest stream. And I’ve watched it ever year since. And I remember how much hope it’s given me over the last few years. And I just…I need to do something for the teenagers sitting at home on their beds. I need to do something for all of them.”

He looked over at Todd. “What are you doing?” He whispered.

Sal just gave him a thumbs up before continuing. “When I was a kid, I got in an accident. The details don’t matter. But I lost my mother. And I lost a lot of myself, too. My face was…basically torn from my skull. And so this?” He motioned around his face. “This isn’t a mask. This is a prosthetic. I use it to keep my skin protected and sanitized. The science doesn’t matter. But…it’s not some fashion choice. It’s a need.”

Sal, with shaking hands, reached up behind him and unbuckled his prosthetic. He lowered it from his face quickly, knowing that if he hesitated for even a second then he would never do it. He shut his eye and turned his face upwards, so the audience could see him in his full bare state. He slowly blinked open, but refused to look at the crowd. He looked past them, at the night sky. He focused on the moon.

There was a horrified scream from the audience. He instantly felt like he was going to vomit. There was pure silence following the scream, and that was somehow worse. He closed his eye again, taking a trembling breathe before continuing. “This is me.” Sal said. His voice was quivering. “And…you can either accept that or move on.” Everything seemed to click at once.

The entire field seemed to go silent before bursting into huge applause.

Sal barely remembered the next few minutes. It was filled with adrenaline, and fear, and such overwhelming joy that it made him forget to breathe. But the response was purely positive. They accepted the money, the trophy, everything. And then they walked off stage.

Sal was tackled in a hug by Ash the second they were in the wings. Todd joined in, and Maple ruffled his hair. “I don’t know what just happened.” Maple said. “But wow. That was badass.”

“Yeah. It really was.” Travis wiggled passed Maple to hug Sal. “Good job. You really fucking did that.”

Sal could see Larry standing just outside the circle of hugs, arms crossed around his face and looking proud yet on the verge of tears. Sal started to wiggle out of the grasps of the others before moving over to him. “Hey, Larbear.” He said. Something in his voice had changed. Something in his _everything_ had changed.

“You’re the bravest person on earth.” Larry said. He nervously reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of Sal’s face. “I wish I was as strong as you.”

Sal pushed himself onto his toes and pressed his lips to the other’s.

Larry let out a surprised noise, but gladly leaned into the kiss. It was gentle. It was chaste. It was needed. He broke the kiss, taking a step back. “See you on the other side, Baby Blue. Break a leg.”

“Will you be there after we get off stage?”

“I’ll be waiting for you. Right here.” Larry was smiling sadly, a hollowness in his eyes. “I love you, Sal. Always.”

“I love you too.” Sal smiled up at him and turned to the crowd with Ash, Todd and Maple.

The rest of the interviews and pictures were done with his prosthetic in his lap, his bare face to the world. Everyone was surprisingly kind and understanding. Sure, some people flinched. Sure, some people just couldn’t look at him. The empty eye socket was pretty disturbing, to be fair. But he expected that. He didn’t expect people to be so nice though. So respectful. Especially during the interviews.

Travis and Neil trailed them and stood around the crowds and just off the stages, drinking beer and supporting them in every way they could. Larry stood behind them, trying to look strong but Sal could feel this burning energy radiating off of him. It was toxic. It was heavy. Something was very, very wrong.

But Sal never got a chance to ask. He was being dragged around to place after place.

When it hit midnight on that Sunday, it was officially Sal’s birthday. And he spent the first three hours of it playing his heart out at the last show of the night. Neil waiting in the wings, yelling for his boyfriend the whole time. Travis and Larry were gone, which only made Sal’s paranoia worse. He was playing his heart out, even daring to sing with Todd for a few of the songs. He had never performed without his mask before and he felt like a whole new person. He was starting a new life. He was twenty four, and he was freeing himself.

He wanted to free himself with Larry.

Every single time he would nervously look at his hands, he would feel the bittersweet sting of the tattoo needle. He wished Larry was here with him. Holding him. Carrying him. He wanted Larry to be sharing this victory with him. Sharing this whole night with him.

He thought he had been healing. But maybe there was more broken inside than he had realized. They were so in love. But they just needed time. And maybe this break and time apart would give them that time.

The time apart. Because Larry would go to rehab.

“You should probably grab Travis and Larry soon.” Neil whispered to him when he walked off stage. “We have flights for them in the morning. But they don’t know yet. We need to have the intervention.”

He found Travis sitting in a fold-up stadium chair behind the main stage, smoking a cigarette and destroying a bag of Taco Bell. Sal didn’t speak for a moment. He took in the sight of Travis, greasy and soggy and exhausted, drinking his slushy and resting in the bitter cold air. He would miss him, he had to admit. He would miss him a lot.

“Hey.” Sal said. “Neil wants to talk to you and Lar in a bit. It’s important.”

“Right on. Let me finish my first breakfast first.” Travis winked at him before taking a drag of his cigarette and a bite of his burrito.

“So classy.” Sal rolled his eyes. “Where’s Larry?”

“He’s been gone for a hot minute. He went back to the bus to pee.”

“So you let him go alone?”

Travis nodded. “Uh, duh? Why?”

Sal felt a weird pang in his something. He knew something was wrong. “You didn’t even ask _why?”_

“Dude, calm down. He’s just pissing.” Travis ashed his cigarette and held up his hands. “Don’t kill me, Sal, I’m just sitting here.”

“And you let an addict go to your bus alone!”

“Yeah. To pee. Why is this such a big deal? It’s not like he can buy any heroin from here to the bus.”

“Do you still have your one hundred percent in your bag?” He asked. Travis’ face fell. He froze. That’s all Sal needed to know. “You’re an asshole, Travis.” Sal turned and started to sprint to the parking lot. He made it to the bus long before Travis even thought to react.

“Larry!” Sal opened the bus door. “Larry, I-“ He stopped dead in his tracks when a horrific smell slapped him in the face. He threw up in his mouth, stumbling back, feeling the burn in his throat. He lifted his shirt to cover his nose, and attempted to reenter the bus. “Larry?” He called out again. He walked through the bus slowly, working his way to the storage space in the back.

When he reached the back of the bus, he screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient during the hiatus! Updates will be more regular now. Thank you so much for all the support and kindness. Chapter 23 will be up on Friday!


	23. Chapter 23

The Los Angeles Police Department

ATTN: R&I Division Watch Commander

 P.O. Box 30158

 Los Angeles, CA 90030

This Transcript Was Released Under the California Public Records Act.

For more information, contact your local police department.

December 20th, 2021

Call Received at 4:02 AM PST

**Dispatcher:** _911, what’s your emergency?_

**Caller:** _(_ inaudible shuffling, screaming)

**Dispatcher:** _Hello?_

**Caller (crying):** _Help! My boyfriend! He’s (_ shuffling) _My boyfriend fucking overdosed! We have the security guys doing CPR (_ inaudible)

**Dispatcher:** _Sir, I need you to speak clearly. Where are you?_

**Caller:** _The Fields LA! At that fucking music festival, please hurry, please_ (inaudible _) Please, please hurry! He’s not breathing, I can’t_ (talking to someone _) He’s not breathing!_

**Dispatcher:** _Sir, we’ve sent an ambulance your way. Are you hurt as well?_

**Caller:** _No, I’m not fucking hurt!_

**Dispatcher:** _Do you know any reason why your friend isn’t breathing?_

**Caller:** _I think he overdosed. I think Larry overdosed. Fuck! Fuck, are they coming? Are they here?_

**Dispatcher:** _They are two minutes away, sir. Please stay on the line with me._

**Caller:** (inaudible)

**Dispatcher:** _Sir, can you tell me what your friend might have taken?_

**Caller:** _Fucking cocaine! Or heroin. Both? Fuck. Fuck, there was vomit everywhere-_

**Dispatcher:** _A cocaine overdose?_

**Caller:** _Yes, probably, fuck-_

**Dispatcher:** _Sir, were you able to detect a heartbeat?_

**Caller:** (inaudible)

**Dispatcher:** _Sir, was there a heartbeat?_

**Caller:** (crying)

**Dispatcher:** _Sir, where at the Fields are you located? Our team has just arrived-_

**Caller:** _The performer parking lot! Fuck, I see the lights. I see them. Ash! Ash, they’re-_

Call Ended at 4:06 AM PST


	24. Chapter 24

Sal knocked on the wooden door quietly. The bright red ‘KEEP OUT’ sign didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. He had no idea who was going to open the door. The sweet janitor lady – Lisa? – had told him her son was around him age. That could mean anything. And hell, he didn’t know what Nockfell was like yet. What if her son was a super scary conservative freak? What if her son was actually twelve?

Trusting the first adult he talked to probably wasn’t the smartest move. But he didn’t have a lot of choices. His dad didn’t want him in the apartment. He was ‘getting in the way of the unpacking’. He ‘needed to go make himself busy’. So his dad sent him to talk to people. And the first person he met was Lisa.

And now he was here.

He knocked again. There was an answer this time.

“Yeah?”

Sal reached up to fiddle with his hair. “Hey, uh, Larry? Your mom said I should come say hi. I just moved into 402.”

“Oh, hey! Come on in! The door is open!” A voice called through the door.

It was indeed open. Sal took a deep breath before twisting the knob.

The room was messy. So, so messy. And there were posters on every single inch of the walls. Paintings, finished and barely touched, were scattered about and covered with dark colors and dark images. It smelled heavily of paint and pinewood, instantly burning Sal’s eyes and his broken nose. Music played in the background, some painful screaming rock song from an older-looking boombox. Everything was overwhelming, and he tightened his fists into balls to prevent from turning into a twitching, crying mess.

Then he noticed Larry.

At first, Sal thought there must have been a mistake. There was a boy, a head or so taller than him, that definitely couldn’t be a freshman. He already looked like puberty had kicked him in the face. He had hair around halfway down his back, and he was bustling about his room with arms full of art supplies. His large brown eyes were focused, and his tongue just barely stuck out of his mouth in concentration.

The boy paused for a second when he caught Sal’s eye. He blinked hard, and then burst into a giant grin. “Hey!”

“Hi…” Sal said, his voice hitching with nervousness.

 “Nice mask!” He said cheerfully, turned to drop all his supplies on his twin bed.

Sal frowned. “It’s a prosthetic.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, man!” He ran his fingers through his hair, his brown eyes darting away for just a moment. Sal noticed his tooth gap, large enough to swipe a credit card through, and the mole on his cheek. And his pointy nose. He looked anything but conventional, not that Sal had any room to talk. But he liked it.

“It’s cool.” Sal shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. “I’m used to much worse by now. So I’m glad you like it.” He looked down at his feet.

Larry leaned in a bit closer. Sal could feel his face getting warm. “So…do you, like, have no face under there? What happened?”

Sal would have been offended. Sal _should_ have been offended. But there was something about the earnest tone in his voice. He obviously didn’t mean any harm. “I’d rather not talk about that.” He stuttered out. He hoped he didn’t sound angry.

“Okay, change of subject.” He nodded, still smiling warmly. Nothing about him was faltering. “I’m Larry. I live down here with my mom.”

“I’m Sal. My friends call me Sally Face. I just moved here with my dad from New Jersey.” He rubbed his knuckles together, looking around the room to take in the mess.

“Sally Face?” Larry raised an eyebrow.

Sal felt his face flush. “I guess I didn’t have any decent friends, to be honest.” His eyes focused in on a Black Sabbath poster, contrasted with a print of Freddie Mercury hanging next to it. “So once they started calling me that, I figured that if I owned the name then the assholes couldn’t use it against me.”

“Sally Face sounds like a rockstar name.” Larry said. “It sounds badass.” He leaned over and snatched Sal’s hands. “You know, you give me a vibe.”

“A vibe?” Sal squeaked, surprised by the sudden contact.

“Let me see...” He held Sal’s hands up to his face. “You do play guitar! I knew it!”

Sal jerked his hands back. “What?!”

“Your knuckles. You play. A lot. And you really don’t ice your hands.” He chuckled. “Look at your wonky knuckles.”

Sal looked down and blushed. “They aren’t…too wonky.”

“I haven’t played in like two years. But I missed it. You should come down and play with me some time. Have a little jam session.”

That actually sounded very nice. “Oh. Totally.”

“What kind of music do you play?”

“A little bit of everything, I think. But rock. I really love rock. I totally prefer my electric over my acoustic, though.”

Larry wrinkled his nose playfully. “You aren’t one of those assholes that calls his electric guitar his ‘axe’, right?”

He giggled despite himself. “No. I’m not a douche. But I totally call it my child. Because it was definitely just as expensive as the healthcare costs of giving birth.”

“You’re a complicated dude, aren’t you, Sal?” Larry gave him a look that he couldn’t quite describe. “You’re pretty strange. I like you. We’re going to get along great.” He stared a bit longer before turning back to his art supplies on his bed. “Sorry it’s such a mess. I’m in the middle of this big idea I had. I’m trying to get everything together for it. I’m in the home stretch.”

“What idea?” Sal walked a bit closer, leaning to look at the pile. Larry seemed to own every color of the rainbow, and every size paintbrush you can imagine.

“What idea?” Larry echoed.

Sal nodded.

He paused for a moment and took a deep breathe. “So, here’s the thing. I have this little thing outside. And it’s a secret. But I feel like I can trust you, Sal.” He folded his hands in front of him. “But if I tell you about this? And you spoil it? I will end you.” He had a joking undertone to his voice, a contagious little cadence that made Sal start to split a smile.

“Okay.”

“I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel like I can share this with you. Don’t ruin it.”

“Okay!”

"Promise." Larry held out his pinky expectantly. 

Sal looked at it, then back to Larry. "Really?" He asked skeptically. 

Larry nodded. "Really. Promise."

This was not exactly something he expected from someone who looked like a punk rock version of Jesus. But he accepted it. So he stuck out a pinky, wrapped it around Larry's and squeezed. "Okay. Fine. Promise."

Larry broke into a huge smile, truly radiating with joy. "Hell yeah." He turned and pointed to a staircase at the back of his room. “It’s going to be easier to show you than tell you. So let’s go.”

Sal followed Larry up the stairs, thinking about how odd it was that he was already willing to follow the other into unknown territory. Chances weren’t always Sal’s thing, especially with people. But something about Larry’s energy made Sal want to do things. It sounded weird. But it made sense. And it seemed that Sal had that same indescribable effect on Larry Johnson.

They walked outside, crossing a lot of short grass in the breezy air towards an imposing tree in the distance. It was alone in the field behind the apartment, standing tall and watching over everything else. And it held a treehouse.

“This is mine.” Larry pointed. “As if it wasn’t obvious. It’s my pride and joy. And no one is allowed up here but me. Not even my mom. Well, one of my friends from school is allowed up here sometimes. You would like her. But that’s not the point.”

“Why are you letting me up there, then?” Sal asked, looking up at the dark-wooded treehouse with an odd sense of dread.

“Because I have this feeling.” Larry pointed at his chest. “I feel it. You showed up at my door and…I don’t know. You’re important.”

“Important?”

“Real.” Larry said.

“Real.” Sal repeated.

And with that, Larry reached up with two long arms and started to climb his way up the ladder into the treehouse above. “Come on! Don’t be shy, Sally Face!”

Hearing that name from his mouth sent a weird feeling right to his stomach. Sal followed him, tiny fingers trembling over rotted wood. He followed his new friend through a hole in the floor, hoisting himself up onto the wooden panels. The floor was covered in old magazines, making Sal’s hands slip. “Did you bring me up here just to see your mess?” He joked before looking up.

He shut up the second he saw what Larry had brought him to see.

One wall of the treehouse, the only wall with no windows, was painted. Well, partially painted. There were some spots missing, some things unfinished. But for the most part, there was a painting. A gorgeous painting. An abstract, surreal image full of bright colors and shining lights and a smiling, happy group of smeared people in the middle. None of them were distinguishable. But they were so happy.

Sal stood up slowly, his eyes not leaving the painting. “Holy shit.”

“I know, it’s rough.” Larry shrugged. He was standing in the middle of the house, hands on his hips. “But it’s coming along.”

“No, it’s not rough. Holy shit as in good. Really good.” Sal said. “Dude…What the hell? Why do you want to keep this a secret? It’s so amazing.” His blue eyes ran over every inch of the half-finished painting. He noticed the way the acrylic sank into the wood and the rot, leaving it textured and gross. But it was unique. And it was him. It was Larry.

In that moment, Sal knew Larry.

“It’s mine. It’s my feelings. I don’t know.” Larry said. “I usually don’t paint stuff this…positive? Colorful? Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, it’s awesome.”

He smiled. “I felt this urge to start it, like, two days ago. I don’t know. I felt like something was coming, and I just got filled with all this bright shitty emotional bullshit that I just needed to vomit somewhere. So I vomited it on my wall. I think I might cover it one day. I don’t know. But it’s here for now. And I think that’s what matters.”

“That’s…beautiful.” Sal turned away from the painting to look at Larry. As if a switch had flipped, he saw him in a completely new light. “Like damn, dude.” He went quiet for a moment. “You’re real, too. I feel it. I guess.”

“We’re best friends now.” Larry said suddenly. He didn’t even look at him. He was just proudly looking at his mural. “I showed you my secret project. You saw my hideout. So now you’re stuck with me, Sal. You’re totally stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?” Sal raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy the rest of the fic. I've been working hard on polishing the map for the finale few chapters and wow. It's EmoTown up in here. I hope you all are ready!


	25. Chapter 25

The coffin was too big.

That had been Sal’s thought through the entirety of his mother’s funeral. He had inherited his height and stature from her, and even at the age of three was able to understand that she was smaller than most. And she was too small for her coffin. His father made him go up to the casket, to say a final goodbye before everyone rode over to the cemetery. He didn't want to go up, but his father dragged him up there and held him until he deemed his goodbye enough.

Sal only remembered one thing from his mother’s funeral: The coffin was too big.

Larry would most likely have the opposite problem. They would be lucky to find something long enough to fit him.

Sal was the one to meet Lisa off the plane, the day after his birthday. The day after Larry was hauled off to the hospital. She was frantic, hair not even brushed, still half in her pajamas. She hadn’t heard from her son in months, and suddenly she was receiving a call from Ashley Campbell explaining that her son was suffering from cardiac arrest. Sal could only imagine what was going on in her head.

“Did you see him?” Lisa was surprisingly calm in the Uber ride.

Sal nodded.

“And?”

He frowned. “And what?”

“What did you do?” She asked.

Sal looked down at his lap. “I called 911. Because there shouldn’t be that much vomit, like, ever. And his skin was literally yellow. I didn’t know that was possible, you know? And…Fuck. I just called 911 and screamed for Ash and ran. I ran.” He started to tear up again. He hadn’t been able to stop crying for more than an hour at a time. I guess his time was up.

“So you didn’t try to help him?” She retorted. “At all?”

His lip quivered under his mask. “He said he wanted to die in my arms. He said so. And so, like…I just didn’t touch him. I thought if I didn’t, then maybe he would stay.”

“Well, I guess it worked.” She replied curtly.

They had managed to get his heart beating on the scene, but the defibrillator only shocked his heart into freezing again. He had a cardiac arrest and a heart attack in the span of a few minutes. They took him into the ICU and wouldn’t let anyone see him. They wouldn’t give anyone information. No one was family. No one was going to know anything.

That’s when Ash called Lisa. And Lisa hopped on the next plane to LA.

And now Larry was in a medically induced coma, freezing his ass off in a hypothermic chamber. A human zombie popsicle. And they were all watching helplessly through the glass.

“They cut his hair.” Lisa said, her hand resting on the glass of the window. “He’s not going to be happy about that one.”

They had. The nurses had to. They couldn’t get the vomit out. It was too matted and tangled and it kept getting in the way of the IV. So they cut it. He had hair down to his thighs, and now it barely touched his shoulders. He was thin, too. They had taken all of his muscle away in the span of just a few hours. He was gaunt. He was off-colored. And now he had short hair too. It was like Larry had been replaced by something entirely new.

Sal could barely recognize him. “Yeah. He’ll be pissed.” His voice was shaking.

If he woke up. When he woke up. Sal was unsure of which term to use. The doctors were extremely open about how it was too early to call. And there had been so much damage done. No oxygen to the brain for ten minutes meant anything. It could mean a wheelchair. It could mean being a vegetable forever. Or he could be perfectly fine. No one knew a thing.

And no one would know until he woke up.

And that wouldn’t be for a while.

The longer he was out, the worse it was.

Lisa glanced over at him. “I missed you, Sally.” She said. He took a deep breath and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “I’m sorry if I’ve been…intense.”

“Why the hell would you apologize?” Sal blurted out. “I mean…duh.”

That did make her let out a quick laugh. “Fair.” She held him still while looking at her son with watery eyes. “I just need to know, Sal. How bad was he?” She whispered.

Sal didn’t know how to answer. He hesitated, and she noticed.

“Oh.”

They both spent their time attached at the hip. The first day passed, and then the second. They watched through the glass like kids at the zoo. Every little subtle change was golden to them. By the second day, Sal could have sworn Larry moved a finger. But he was probably just hallucinating. They hadn’t exactly been sleeping.

The hospital took Larry out of the induced coma and let him defrost on his own time. Hours were passing too quickly. Doctors were sharing less information. Things were starting to get dark.

“His breathing tube freaks me out.” Sal muttered. He wiggled around in his waiting room seat. Him and Lisa both looked like disasters. Hair greasy and unbrushed, same clothes for days, surviving off venting machine cokes and cakes. Ash looked the same, but at least she could sleep. She was knocked out in the seat next to Sal, her head on his shoulder.

They were away from the room. Away from the chaos. Now they were with the commoners. The people with colds. The people with headaches. The people waiting. They were in limbo.

Todd and Neil were doing damage control. They hadn’t even had time to come to the hospital yet. They had to do all the press releases. They had to talk to the news. They had to go be the adults that no one else could be.

Travis was still missing. He hadn’t been seen since the ambulance arrived. It was pissing Sal off. It was pissing everyone off. And terrifying them. They were barely holding onto Larry with the tips of their fingers, and they didn’t want to drop another person into hell in the process.

“These seats are going to give me a rash.” Lisa muttered to herself, making Sal crack a small smile. “The least they could do is give us a proper couch or something at this point.”

Sal shrugged. “They probably want us gone. We’ve been breathing down the nurses’ necks.”

“For good reason.”

“Of course.”

“But you would think that after sitting here for so long, we would at least earn an hour in the VIP suite.” Lisa joked.

“Ah, yes.” Sal nodded. “My punch card is almost full. Maybe that means a real meal.”

“Or water that doesn’t taste like it’s from a spit cup.”

Sal was about to respond when a nurse walked out with a crying woman attached to her hip. Lisa and Sal looked at each other then quickly darted their eyes away. It was obvious that this woman had gotten the news that they didn’t want. They felt their stomachs sink.

They both fell into silence, the only noise being Ash’s raspy snoring next to Sal. They were lit by white blue lights, burning their eyes. After too many hours spent away from sunlight, this was all they knew.

“I miss him.” Sal said suddenly.

Lisa just nodded.

Sal looked down at the floor. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She said. She paused for a moment before continuing. “Jim spoke with me, you know. Sometime after Sanity’s Fall really took off. I thought he was going to ask for money or something. But it turns out he just wanted to thank me for everything I did for Larry.” She shifted her weight in her seat. “He just said…thanks. For making it work.”

“Oh.” Sal said. “Did you tell Larry?”

Lisa shook her head. “He didn’t want me to tell him. He was smart. He knew it would fuck with Larry too much.” Sal flinched at her use of the curse. He wasn’t used to that. “But maybe…I don’t know. Maybe it could have prevented this.”

“No one could have prevented this.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Larry was…falling.” His voice broke. “Falling fast.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

Red showed up at the hospital that afternoon, much to Ash’s horror and rage. But he didn’t want to see her. He practically walked through her. He wanted to see Sal. Red convinced the nurses to give them a private room to talk, and Sal followed despite the fact that he would rather be anywhere else. He didn't want whatever it was that was about to happen. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be with Larry.

“How is your week going, Sally Face?” Red lit a cigar, which only pissed Sal off.

“You can’t smoke in a hospital.”

He smirked as he took a long drag. “My mistake.” He made no effort to put it out. Instead, he made himself comfortable in a seat by a glass coffee table. “Take a seat. Let’s discuss.”

Sal sat across from him, his mind already fuzzy and not willing to put up with whatever was about to occur.

Red cleared his throat. "That was supposed to be you in there, Sal."

What.

"What?"

He chuckled. "I was waiting for you to break. I was waiting for you to slip up. I was waiting for a reason to fire  _you."_

Sal did throw up. Just a little. He swallowed it and let it burn his throat. "What the fuck?" He choked out.

Red full-on laughed in response.

"What the fuck?!" Sal repeated.

"Larry was supposed to be the one here with me. You were supposed to be the one I could dispose of. But you all really turned those tables on me. He wasn't nearly as strong as I thought. I'm almost impressed."

He shook his head. "You're a sick fuck." Sal brought a hand up into his hair. "What?"

"I was supposed to fire you and send them on that amazing European tour. You all don't do it for me. You all are good, yes. But you aren't my favorite. You all weren't...it. But guess what? They're done. Sanity's Fall is dropped as of...oh, an hour ago."

They were dropped. Oh no.

"I'm so lost." He muttered.

Red rolled his eyes. "Let me spell it out, kid. I put you all together on tour to get rid of you. I put you together because I expected you to slip up. To break. To out yourself. But you all kept it together. I thought I had you at Screamfest when you pulled that Phantom of the Opera bullshit. But you did it, didn't you? You survived. You made it to the endgame. And Larry...we'll see. Any news?"

"You don't get to know any news!" Sal cried.

 “It’s your tour if you want it.” Red said. "I think you all have earned it."

"Tour?"

He shrugged. "Larry is gone. You all can tour Europe if you want."

Sal stood up slowly. “No. No, no, _fuck_ no.” His fists started to tremble. “You’re a fucking psychopath!”

“I’m not the bad guy, Sally. I’m not the one making these decisions.”

“But you’re making them options!” He yelled.

Red sighed. He crushed his cigar into the glass table and rose to his feet. “There are a lot of options. You all just keep choosing the ones that you regret later. That’s not my fault.” He shrugged. “Look. You don’t want it? Fine. But-“

“I quit.” Sal said.

Red froze. “What?”

“I quit.” He repeated. “I quit. I…I don’t want this. I really don’t want this.” He was speaking slowly, each word running through his mouth before they even reached his brain. “I quit.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay. You can do that. But _you_ have to tell all of them. And _you_ have to explain why. And _you_ have to take responsibility for this. You have until the last day of your break to decide. But honestly? With your track record? I’ll see you at the airport in March, kid.” He adjusted the folds of his jacket before heading to the door.

“I’m serious about quitting.” Sal said it again. He needed to assure himself. “I am.”

“See you in March.”

That was the last time Sal saw Red in the flesh.

He felt the room after wiping his tears under his mask and taking a moment to find his lungs again. Breathing was hard. And scary. When he returned to the waiting room, Lisa wasn’t there. Neither was Ash. But a nurse to lead him to Larry was. All thoughts of Red vanished the second the nurse held out her arm and pointed to the hall.

He was able to have people near him again. Sal didn’t know if that was better or worse. Larry looked even more horrifying up close. Sal couldn’t look at him for too long. He didn’t want to remember this. He didn’t want to remember the bruises and the needles.

Fuck.

Just fuck.

Lisa was sitting in a chair by the window in Larry's new room, next to a second empty one. Ash was gone. Probably to call Neil and Todd and tell them to finally come visit. Sal moved slow, zombie-like, over to the seat next to Lisa and closed his eyes. When he sat, he let the sounds of the monitors and breathing tube determine his own heartbeat.

“I already spoke to him.” Lisa whispered. “The doctors think talking could maybe help him wake up. Do you want to say hi?”

Sal didn’t want to. Not that he didn’t want to talk to Larry, but he didn’t want to talk to a lifeless skinbag. He didn’t want to watch his friend decay.

But he scooted his chair forward and leaned in close.

He allowed himself a moment to compose himself. He gave himself time. He tried not to stare at all the cords and tubes and wires. He tried to ignore how disgustingly yellow Larry’s skin looked. He worked hard to ignore every single little bit of peeling flesh, dripping fluid, and sticky needle. He instead imagined Larry as he stood in LA, arms outstretched with the lights of the pier behind him. He saw Larry smiling, laughing, screaming at the top of his lungs on a beach. He saw his brown eyes, blessed with sunset in the desert.

He saw the man he truly loved. So far away. Yet right in front of him.

“Larry.” Sal whispered. His voice broke, but he refused to let tears fall again. His hand passed over Larry’s arm, and he jerked back at how cold and dry Larry felt. It made his stomach flip. “Hey, Larbear. It’s me. It’s your Baby Blue. I…I don’t know if you can hear me. But I’m right by your side. And I’m not leaving. You’re stuck with me.” He reached out and grabbed for Larry’s hand again, and this time he held tight. It was limp and lifeless, but Sal gripped onto it like he was back in high school holding his hand for the first time. It didn’t feel like a hand and Sal nearly vomited into his mouth. “I’m going to rescue you. I promise.”

He squeezed his hand again, before very slowly letting go. He scooted his chair away from the bed so he was next to Lisa again. When they were side by side, Lisa gently took Sal’s arm and leaned close to him. He reciprocated the touch, and the two sat speechless, watching Larry’s chest rise and fall, serenaded by the beeping heart monitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever WHOOPS. My life got insane so just be patient but trust me: I'll be finishing this soon.


	26. Chapter 26

Larry Johnson finally woke up from his coma on January 4th.

Sal had been gone, ironically, when Larry finally woke up. The one time Sal leaves hospital properly in nearly three weeks and Larry finally opens his eyes, finally looks around, and starts to sob uncontrollably because he was completely alone. Ash and Lisa and Sal had gone to get some dinner, to eat a real meal for the first time since the incident. The hospital didn’t call them, or warn them. And when they got back, Larry was sedated. And Lisa was pissed.

When Larry had woken up, he had ripped out his ventilator tube, and nearly cut open his throat from the inside. He had covered himself in vomit. He had ripped out IVs and pulled off heart monitors. He had tried to stand, and failed, falling flat onto his face and breaking his nose. All of this in the span of time that it took for Sal and Ashley and Lisa to eat one meal. And not a soul warned them.

Sal had never heard Lisa yell that loud before, and the nurses certainly got the message.

Todd had been at the hospital with Neil, but they had been on a different floors trying to give statements to the press using a very detailed, very robotic speech written by Red himself. They had done this nearly every day since Larry was admitted. They didn’t know what happened until they arrived back on the floor at the same time as the others. They all walked in at the same time, to see a nurse cleaning up vomit and blood, and another one perfecting the bandages on a tranquilized Larry’s nose.

He looked like a corpse.

This was normal, the doctors had told them. Larry’s heart had stopped, for probably around ten minutes. There was no oxygen to the brain. No blood flow. It was very normal and expected for Larry to not be able to walk. Or speak. Or do much at all. Chances of a full recovery were very, very low. He had been dead. And somehow, in the ambulance, they were able to bring him back. But until Larry started to get moving again, they wouldn’t know how much Larry was back.

But he had woken up. And that was a miraculous start.

 “How long is he going to be out?” Sal asked a nurse. When she responded with a loose and unsure miniature monologue, he took that as a queue that it was safe to wander out and jump on his phone a bit farther down the hall. It was, after all, almost time for his daily phone call.

“Hey, dude.” A familiar voice said cheerfully on the other side of the phone. “How’s my favorite hospital rat?”

“He’s awake, Trav.”

 Travis had hopped on a plane the second Larry was taken to the hospital. He checked himself into some fancy rehab center in Colorado without telling anyone. Sal received a letter with a phone number to call a few days later. Ever since then, him and Travis had talked every single day. No one else knew where he was. And Travis wanted it that way.

Travis had been driven by Chug and Maple, and then the pair had disappeared themselves. Maple was in her own intensive care on the other side of the city, on bed rest for her horrific pregnancy pains. She had become a high-risk case overnight. Ash kept her updated much like how Sal kept Travis updated, and Sal wouldn’t be surprised if Ashley was on the other side of the hallway giving her own good news through the receiver herself.

“He’s awake.” Sal repeated. “For real.”

“Shit. How is he?” His voice dropped low.

“He’s alive.” Sal said. “That’s a start.”

“But…?”

“He might be a little broken.”

“Don’t call it broken.” Travis said sternly. “He might just a little more help. He’s just literally died. You can’t expect him to be fully the same.”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“He’s alive. Alive enough to be awake. That’s great.”

“Yeah.”

Sal could practically hear the nodding Travis was doing states away. “So, what kind of awake?”

“The ‘get up and walk’ awake. Actually, correction. Try to walk. Not successfully walk.” He leaned against the wall and looked up at the bright lights. “He totally crushed his nose.”

“Maybe they’ll take off an inch or two during surgery as an act of charity.”

“Trav.” Sal’s tone was a warning, but the blonde only laughed in response. “Anyway, it obviously sounds like your therapy has been a wild success so far. I’ve never heard you so positive.”

 “And I haven’t heard you be this awake since the incident.” He said. “I’m so happy to hear about Larry. Please, _please_ keep me updated.”

 “Of course.”

 It didn’t take long for there to be a major update: Larry woke up again. And looked around. And spoke to a nurse. And fell asleep again. When the nurse came back out, they were a little confused but elated to tell the family that he was able to speak.

He had only said one word.

“Blue.”

None of them slept that night.

The next day, he was awake for longer. Lisa went in alone to be with him, as her motherly right. And they talked for a half hour, and he fell asleep again. They went through that little cycle three times that day, alone. When Lisa came out for the night, she was laughing her ass off. “He’s fine.” She said. “He’s still a sarcastic little shit.”

Those were the best words Sal had ever heard. Ash and Todd and Neil felt such wild, intense relief that it hurt. And Sal felt like he had finally woken up from the worst nightmare imaginable. For a moment, a tiny moment, he forgot exactly what happened. All he could focus on was the fact that Larry was here. He was _here._ He was himself, even if it was only for a little at a time. He was here and he was tired. And he was an idiot but he was here.

Sal didn’t get to see Larry for a few more days. It was Lisa’s time. Lisa needed to be with him while he started to wake up, and remember, and return. He apparently wouldn’t stop rambling on about food. He was _starving._ When it wasn’t food, it was middle school. He was stuck in his memories one his seventh grade year for some ungodly reason. He wouldn’t shut up about Ashley. When it wasn’t Ashley, it was Sal. Lots and lots of Sal.

 So. Much. Sal.

 Lisa knew more about him now than he ever expected.

Which meant that Lisa ended up giving up some time for Larry to finally see Sal. Maybe seeing him would make him stop his rambling. She had warned Sal of a few things, such as Larry’s voice. It was deeper. Rougher. So, so destroyed. And his body was a mess. The word paralyzed had been thrown around by a few doctors. He got tired very quickly. He was prone to fits of coughs and hyperventilation.

But the worst part was the memory loss. He could barely remember the past conversations, let alone the last few days. The entire night of Screamfest was gone. Disappeared.

When Sal walked into the hospital room with shaking hands and a trembling lip, guided by a hand on his lower back, Larry sat up straighter. “Look who finally decided to show up!” He smiled in this exhausted way, showing off yellow teeth rotted with bile and this unshaved mess of a scruff. But he might as well have looked like a prince in this moment.

Lisa left quickly, understanding that it was their time. It was ‘soulmate time’, Ash had joked.

“Sorry I’m late. The traffic was insane. You should really find a place with better parking.” Sal joked back. It felt so natural. God, it was so natural. He was back. Larry Johnson was back.

“J-just sit.” Larry laughed. But before he laughed, he stuttered. “I haven’t talked to you yet, right? I can’t fucking remember.”

“Nope. First time in a while.”

“Well, then. Happy late birthday. Sorry I missed it.”

Sal did so, sitting in a chair he pulled as close as possible to the bed. He reached out and gently ran his hand over Larry’s left arm, smiling softly at the feeling of warmth that had started to return to his dry skin. “Hearing your voice is everything to me.” He whispered.

The brunette snorted in response. “Please d-don’t get sappy on me.” He had stuttered again. “You’re just jealous I look so sexy in a hospital. It’s not-t every day someone looks so angelic strapped into a metal bed. Unless you’re into that.”

Sal looked up at Larry’s face, drowning in his smile. His eyes were somehow so bright. So weak, but so bright. It was so easy to ignore the grim situation when such a beautiful boy was giving you his all.

But it still wasn’t Larry. A nagging feeling pulled at Sal’s mind. No piercings. Not one. The skins was dry and tight. His lips were cut. His nose was smashed and bruised. His dark circles had somehow gotten _worse._ He weak, in every sense, and his aura had changed. He gave out this energy of pure, unadulterated pain.

It was Larry. But it wasn’t.

It was Larry after.

And maybe he wasn't quite Sal anymore. Maybe he was Sal after, too.

“S-Someone is getting a bill from my stylist the second I get out of here.” He chuckled. “I mean, come on. A straight-across bob? What am I, a 70s dyke?” He tossed his head to show off his shorter locks, and quickly winced from moving his head too fast.

Sal scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time we’re trying to sterilize you, I’ll make sure to call Wayne Goss.”

“Wayne is makeup, not hair.” Larry clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Of course that’s the part you focus on.”

For a second, Sal almost was able to tune out the heart monitor. But then Larry started to cough, and his left hand was the only hand he could move to barely cover his cracked and dry mouth. The smell of the hospital came crashing back. “Can you believe it, b-babe.” Larry croaked out. “My right hand is so numb. I must have fallen on it or something. Must be a nasty sprain.”

It probably wasn’t a sprain.

“Leave it to you to even suck at sitting still.”

“I was out for days, I wanted to get some fresh air. Wasn’t my fault that my legs are a little numb. I’m sure that in a week or two, I’ll be back to jumping around.”

His legs probably weren’t just numb.

“Oh, for sure.”

“And this little stutter? That’s annoying. Can’t wait for that to fade.”

 It probably wouldn’t.

  “Larry.” Sal said gently. He reached out and gently grabbed his hand. “How…how do you feel?”

 “Good enough.” He said. But he didn’t sound it. “I can’t wait to get out.”

 “Have…they told you about what happened?”

 He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but it’s b-bullshit. I’m going to be fine. And it probably wasn’t as b-bad as their making it sound.” His breath caught when he said that, and he was yawning before he realized it. “I, uh…I don’t remember what happened yesterday.” He muttered, fear finally starting to creep into his voice. “T-the memory stuff is, uh…The doctors don’t talk to me about-t that. They just keep reminding me what I’ve been doing to try to make up for it.”

“Healing takes time.”

Larry didn’t respond. He just looked away. When he did so, Sal caught a glimpse of a tiny patch of hair on the back of his head that had been shaved away for some hard-to-imagine medical miracle.

 Sal was a fixer. And he felt so weak that he couldn’t fix this. “Can I ask you something?” The words came out kitten-like, small and hesitant. He didn’t even half to elaborate much, because Larry froze up and instantly understood the further direction of this cursed conversation.

 He shook his head. “Sal, please.”

 “Larry, please.”

 He shook his head again, glaring down into his lap. His heart monitor beeped faster. “Let’s watch TV. I haven't gotten to yet.”

 “Larry-“

 “No questions.”

 “Please. Just one.” Sal gripped his hand tighter. He could feel Larry physically trying to pull away. “Please!”

 After a moment, Larry caved. “Fine.” It was hard to escape reality while strapped into a bed.

“Was it on purpose?” Sal blurted out.

Nothing else more needed to be said. They both understood what he meant.

 Larry started to bitterly laugh. “No.” He shook his head and turned away to look at the wall. “No. But it was the best damn mistake I ever made.”

 “Larbear-“

“The best high in the world is dying.” He said the words so casually that Sal could practically hear his heart break when they were out. "I can't wait to feel it again."

This is the part in the story where Sal was supposed to climb into the hospital bed, pull back the covers and caress Larry until he started to love himself. But in real life, you can’t climb into the hospital bed and hold your broken lover close. It would tangle the wires, or ruin the IV or infect the patient. You can only hold their shaking hand, admire their shattered spirit and pray that both of you all will make it until you can hold each other in your own beds again.

Sal cleared his throat, ignored his misty eyes and reached over Larry’s legs for the remote. “Let’s see what’s on TV.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking by with through the long updates! My tumblr holds all the details for how my mental state has been and whats going on in my life, so thank you for staying patient with me. I love you all!
> 
> Also WOW, thank you to all the cosplayers who are out here making my heart cry happy tears on Tiktok. Like DAMN. You all are making all my dreams come true in such crazy ways. I'm so grateful. Thank you so much.


	27. Chapter 27

Sal remembered the night they were contact by Red Eyed Demon Records like it was yesterday. Larry couldn’t. But Sal could.

“We had an agent come up to us after our first big show. I remember how…you smelled like beer. And grease. God, you were gross. I was gross too. We all were sticky. But anyway, this guy comes up to us. He’s in a suit and we both panic because we think we’re in trouble because we totally might have broken a mic and didn’t tell anyone. But nope. He was an agent. He wants us to Skype with his boss. And then we Skyped with Red the next day.”

“What was my reaction? To that?” Larry asked, sitting in his wheelchair by the door.

Sal smiled. “You lifted me and twirled me and you didn’t sleep at all the night because you were so nervous.”

Larry reached down with his left hand and pushed the knob that moved the motorized wheelchair forward. He moved towards the bed where Sal was perched. “S-so I was super gay. Got it.”

That made them both laugh. Ash, who was sitting over in the corner in a soft cushion chair, chucked a magazine at Larry. “Not gay. You were stupid. Don’t forget that he totally tripped down the stairs of the venue.”

“In front of fans.” Todd added from the chair next to Ashley’s. He feet dangled over one of the arm rests into his lap. “And the agent.”

He chuckled and brushed his short hair away from his face. “So I’m just really d-damn stupid-d.”

Ash nodded. “And nothing has changed.”

"And then we all Skyped him together. All five of us. And we got signed that exact moment. He had us sing a few bars for him over Skype and Todd was totally better than both of us on the fly like that. But we managed to nail it or something. Because damn. We were signed."

Todd poked at Ash's shoes. "Signed, sealed, delivered." 

"Right into the arms of a demon!" Ashley made big overexaggerated movements with her arms. All of them laughed as she twisted her face into some beastly expression.

It was moments like these where they could forget they were in the hospital still.

A few weeks had passed since Larry woke up. Physical therapy had started. And it was a nightmare. Larry could barely stand, let alone walk short distances. His right hand was all but gone forever. Numb, unusable. Barely was able to make his pinkie twitch. His stutter remained. And his lungs were very, very weak. Sal and Lisa had already started memory therapy, too, desperate to try to fix _something_ just to try to make Larry feel like a person again. He wouldn’t admit it, or talk about it, but he was scared shitless. And he was frustrated. And livid.

More than livid.

He was pissed.

But he wouldn’t say a single word about it. And he wouldn’t listen to anything about it either. He could only ever show his emotions during physical therapy, where he would yell and cry in frustration before throwing something small across the room with what little strength he had. Sal tried to do everything in his power to stay smiling and encouraging, avoiding talking about reality just in case. But nothing helped calm the rage and pain inside of Larry.

Things would go well for a few hours at a time. Or maybe even a day or two. Larry would be cheerful. He would be his own sarcastic self in the best ways he knew how. He would joke and play and was cooperative with his meds and his assisted baths. But all it took was one little word to set him off and change everything. ‘Tour’. ‘Paralyzed’. ‘Rehab’. ‘Brain damage’. Anything along those thin lines.

Then he was gone. And all that was left was a suicidal shell that would growl and run over doctor’s toes and shout at nurses who entered the room. He was impossible to deal with in those moments. Ash and Todd would usually use this as the time to go leave, rest in their hotels, maybe get a meal. The way Larry would act left a sour taste in Ashley's mouth. She pulled Sal aside more than once to remind him that yes, Larry was going through a hard time, but his behavior was so fucked up. Sal would just nod. He didn't listen. He was too focused on giving his entire soul to Larry. Sal and Lisa would sit there and take it. Both of them were exhausted, hurt, sweaty and sad. And yet they sat there like champions while this grown man threw fits that even toddlers would be appalled by.

Sal didn’t know how much longer he could sit there.

When Sal _didn’t_ sit there, he wandered the hospital. Everything smelled the same. Everything had a white-blue haze. Everyone looked the same. But anything was better than watching Larry Johnson disappear. He would often get pestered about his mask by nurses and interns and children. He got hit on a few times by random doctors, which didn’t make sense to him because he really did look like piss-stained roadkill. Showers weren’t too common. Maybe doctors just take what they can get o the midnight shift. Ew.

He had to admit that it felt nice to feel wanted again. He felt like shit when he couldn't pull Larry out of his delusional depressive episodes. And maybe a compliment or two about his hair and his hands and his eye wasn't a bad thing.

Sal ran into the occasional fan, too, which was a punch to the gut. He signed an autograph, refused a picture. And he had to smile and give the classic PR response to people asking about Larry. And asking about LarryFace. And just asking.

Asking. Asking. So much fucking asking.

And there were no fucking answers to give.

Fan letters and emails piled up in Todd and Neil's possession. Most for Larry, some for Sal. But all were positive and full of well wishes. It did nothing but make Larry's attitude a million times worse.

"I let everyone f-f-fucking down." He muttered under his breath, pulling off his IV with his teeth for the third time just that day and throwing it across the room with his left hand. "I should have just fucking died-d. They all d-deserve someone better. Someone they can  _actually_ look-k up to."

Sal didn't have it in him to argue. So he just called the nurses again.

Everything felt so long and boring. Monotonous. Eternal. Sal felt so selfish every time he got annoyed, or got a little upset. _He_ wasn’t the one who died. _He_ could still have a career in music. Larry was done. So Sal had no right to complain.

Right?

At least that’s how he felt. Especially when he sat in on Larry’s first emotional therapy session.

“So, Lawrence-“

“Larry.” He snapped.

The therapist just nodded, unphased by the rudeness. “Okay. Larry. I’m Dr. Anna Marie Garza. I’m going to be helping you with some of your internal struggles to hopefully work on improving your outer ones.”

“I’m not struggling-g. I’m going to be fine.”

Sal was sitting next to Larry in a foldable chair, across from the therapist in the large sterile room. It was most likely usually a room used for group therapy, with all the room and the chairs and the television in the corner. But today it was the Larry Johnson room, and the air was still and tense with a bitterness only achievable by the bruised ego of a rockstar.

“You’re right. You will be fine!” The therapist nodded again. “It’ll take a little bit of work to get you there, but you can do it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need-d to work.”

“So, who did you bring along with you today, Larry?” She remained unwavering.

“My b-boyfriend.” Larry scowled.

“Oh, wonderful. Hello. What’s your name?”

“Sal.” He smiled tightly. He felt so small next to Larry’s huge dark aura. “Sal Fisher.”

“Nice to meet both of you.”

The rest of the session was just as awkward and forced as the introductions. And painful. So painful. Painful to listen to, painful to hear. Sal didn’t say a word. Larry barely said anything, but when he did it was full of bile. It was gross and mean. It was raw vitriol. At first, Sal was upset Larry didn't want Lisa there. But now he was grateful that one of the kindest women on earth didn't get to listen to this.

Sal couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t tell if he was hurt or angry or what. But Larry’s utter reluctance to work on _anything,_ even if it was only the first session, made the blue haired boy grow a heavy pit in his own stomach. What was the point? What was ever going to be the point?

He wanted to run away. He wanted to leave. He wanted something. But he didn’t know what.

When the doctor left, she still managed to be professional and smile and reach out to shake hands even though Larry all but insulted her personally. The sound of the door closing behind her echoed in the empty room. It underlined the feelings Sal was feeling inside.

Something broke.

He pinched the bridge of the nose of his mask. “You could have at least been nice. Faked it. Or something.”

“Fuck no. Why? I j-just want this to be f-fucking over.”

He reached out with a pale hand to try to comfort his boyfriend. “Larbear-“

Larry scooted his wheelchair away, glaring Sal down as he did so.

That action hit Sal in a way he didn’t expect. “Larry.” His voice was suddenly firm.

“I don’t have to be nice to anyone here. I don’t want t-t-to be here. This whole thing is f-fucked up.”

Sal grit his teeth. “I understand it’s hard for you-“

“You don’t understand.”

“You have to be reasonable, Larry. Like you do realize how serious this all is, right?”

He just laughed back.

“ _Please_ just listen to me.”

Larry huffed and rolled his eyes. “This is b-bullshit.”

“No, _you’re_ bullshit!” He cried. “You almost died!”

“Everyone dies, Sal.”

“Okay then!" He crossed his arms. "I want you to think about me being dead.” He said. “About you having to plan my funeral. Identify my body. Come on. Think about it.”

“Sal-“

“How sick I would look. How gross I would smell. If _I_ was the one to try to leave.”

“Sal!”

“Think about it!”

“I can’t!” He shouted.

“Well, I had to Larry! I had to. Every single fucking day.” Sal stood up from his chair violently, causing the metal seat to crash onto the hospital floor. “You were gone. You were _gone._ I’m going to say that again in case it hasn’t hit you yet!” He jumped forward and grabbed Larry’s shoulders. “You. Were. Gone.”

 Larry looked into Sal’s blue eye with his own dark brown ones and finally, finally, it seemed to click in Larry’s head exactly how much every single moment of this entire ordeal had torn apart the other’s soul. “S-Sal.” He stuttered out, his eyes filling with tears.

 Sal couldn’t bring himself to cry. He was trembling with rage, and shivering from how disgustingly sharp his boyfriend’s shoulders felt under his hands. “Just…fuck. Fuck, Johnson. Read the fucking room. Be a fucking person.”

 Sal let go of Larry’s shoulders and walked across the room to slump into a chair towards the back wall. Larry just stilled with his head down in his wheelchair, clutching his right hand with his left, sniffling to himself.

 After the longest, most painful silence, Sal let out a heavy sigh. “So when’s your first speech therapy appointment?”

 He fiddled with his fingers. “Um…the f-fifth.”

 Sal nodded. “Cool. Cool…” He looked down at his shoes. “Can’t wait. It’ll be fun. We can sing together again.”

 “Yeah…” Larry nodded quietly. After a moment, he spoke again. “I l-love you.”

  Sal looked down at his phone. “Love you too.”


	28. Chapter 28

“Promise me that the rockstar lifestyle won’t mess with us.” Larry rolled over in his tiny little bed, draping a giant tanned arm over Sal’s tiny frame. He pulled his boyfriend close to his chest and buried his face in his bright blue hair. He giggled before pushing him away, forcing the taller boy to roll over on his side. “I’m serious.” Larry said, pulling Sal close again. “For real. I don’t want us to fall into the traps of like, I don’t know, the money or the fame or the partying-“

“You don’t want us to end up like Kurt Cobain-slash-Stevie Nicks coke-shoving suicidal stereotypes.” He said bluntly.

“Well…yeah.”

“Fine.” Sal shrugged and held out his pinkie. “No drugs.”

“Except weed?” Larry hesitated.

"Dipshit.” Sal laughed. “You know what I mean. No, like, coke. Or anything that could totally kill you.”

“Fine. No coke. Yes weed.”

“I hate you.” Sal rolled his eye. The light of his apartment bedroom shone over both of them and bathed them in a nostalgic glow. Every memory Sal had of high school seemed to have this film over it – this rubberized golden hue. Maybe because it emphasized the way Larry’s chocolate eyes shone in the sun. Maybe because it was warm and tan, like his skin. Maybe because it was how Sal felt while he was falling for him: golden.

Nothing was gold now.

 The therapist leaned over in his chair and snapped at Sal. “Excuse me.” He said. “Earth to Sal. It’s your turn.”

Sal looked up from the dark tile floor and made eye contact with the therapist. The _new_ therapist. The _third_ therapist. Larry had turned away the first, scared away the second and now reluctantly was sitting with this third. Sal and Lisa were reluctantly with him. And the therapist was reluctantly putting up with every single way Larry tried to flip the conversation.

“What were we talking about?” Sal said in a low, exhausted voice.

“My inability to ‘st-st-op self-sabotaging’.” Larry rolled his eyes and said the word with one-handed air quotes.

 Sal just nodded. “Oh. Again. What’s my line?”

 The therapist pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re discussing how this has affected you and if you have any thoughts on how Larry is growing.”

Sal paused. That was a lot to think about. How was Larry growing? He turned to look at the angry, bitter, lanky and boney boy that sat slumped in his chair. His walker and his mother sat to his left. His hair had grown, that was for sure. It was starting to curl at the ends. And his eyebrows were bushier. He hadn’t been able to shave so he definitely was scruffier.

 But that’s not what the therapist meant.

 How had Larry grown?

 He had grown…bitter. He had grown stale. He had grown dull and rude and callous and…mean. So mean. To everyone. His suicide attempt was a dirty rag that he threw in people’s faces. It was a bargaining chip. He was the husk of the former man he proudly was. Now he was just…his pain. And nothing else.

 Sal wasn’t dating Larry anymore. He was dating a Larry that used to exist. Now, he was just dating a mummy. Or a zombie. Or just a plain monster.

 He could only keep standing by for so long.

He was crying before he realized it. And it wasn’t quiet. It was sloppy and wet and his cheeks stuck to his mask and his lips drooled and his eye was nearly blind from the tears.

The waves hit him all at once.

"How has this effected me?" Sal's voice was trembling. "Well, let me tell you, doctor. My heart hurts. Do you know what it's like to wake up on eggshells? Do you know what it's like to have to cherrypick every word you speak, carefully deciding how far you want to take today's fight? Every conversation can either be normal or an all-out-brawl. There's no in-between. There's never a grey area, actually. It's all black and white and painful and endless and intense and extreme and... _fuck,_ I can't do it. I thought I could. I was strong at first. And...fuck, I love him." Sal turned to Larry. "I love you. But I can't do this anymore. I'm tired."

“Sal…?” Larry said his name with a sudden twinge of fear.

“Sal.” Lisa reached over to comfort him but, much to his regret, he instinctively snapped away.

 “…No.” He said. “No. I…I quit.” Each word was slow. “I…want to leave.”

It all came crashing on him at once. How Larry yelled at the nurses when he was around. How Sal flinched every time a doctor came to give an update. How absolutely horrific the process of moving Larry from hospital to long-term care was. Every day was a fight. Every day was scary. And unhappy. It was unpredictable and inconsistent and draining.

So very draining.

Sal was drained.

Sal was emotionally drained and left on empty, stranded on the side of the road with no fuel to keep moving forward. He didn’t even have the strength to push. He was just stuck.

And he wanted out.

Now.

“I want to leave.” He repeated.

“Excuse me?” The therapist perked up.

“What?!” Larry leaned forward in his seat and gripped the armrest with his one hand. “Bu-bu-bu-“ His stutter got stuck on whatever he was trying to say. Sal would have usually pat him on the shoulder and told him to breathe and try again. But not this time.

Instead, he just stood up and straightened his shirt before leaving.

He left the therapist’s office and jumped into an Uber and whisked himself away before Lisa could even follow him.

His phone started to blow up instantly. But Sal just muted the numbers.

He went straight back to Larry’s hospice room to pack his small suitcase and grab all his important files: his passport, his money, his ID, his medical papers allowing his mask on flights. He grabbed all his clothes, he grabbed all his tech and his guitar. When he turned around with everything on his back and sobs stuck in his throat, his blue eye met Ash’s green ones.

That was a little wrench he didn't expect in his plan.

'Plan' wasn't the right word.

“Larry called.” They said in unison.

Ash nodded. “And I need to talk to you now-“

“I’m going home.” He said.

Ash stood there, lips barely parted, frozen in thought. “Sal-“ she started.

“Do you want to come to the airport with me?” He said. “It’s, uh, a pretty long Uber. I would like to have you there. I…I don’t know when I’m coming back.”

“Larry says you aren’t answering your phone.”

“I muted my calls.” He said. “Are you coming or not? Because I already bought my ticket online and I leave in three hours.”

“Wait…really?” Ash stepped into the room. “Sal-“

“I’m calling my Uber.”

Ash ended up joining him in the little Subaru, all shaking hands and feverish texting and stammering questions.

But Sal’s answers remained the same, every single time she attempted to say anything to him. “I’m leaving.” His eye stared intently outside the car, counting trees and planets and buildings and drowning out Ash’s pleas. Her words were static to his ears. Panic had removed his senses.

“Sal…Please. What about us? You…you haven’t even seen Todd. Or Neil. You can’t just leave without saying goodbye.”

“I can call them later.”

“What about the band?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

 “What about Larry?”

 “I want to leave.”

 “Are you high or something?”

 “No. I’m just tired.”

 Maybe it was just because Sal was so gone, but the ride to the airport was much faster than he prepared for. And it seemed too fast for Ash too. She was trying to get home to stop, trying to get him to give her a return date, trying to get him to talk to Larry. But he was quiet and determined and lost.

He was so, so tired.

 He climbed out of the car and stretched. He grabbed his guitar, his suitcase and his duffle bag. Ash out of the car after him, but Sal ignored her words and just hugged her quickly before rushing past her. “I love you so much. I’m going home. Goodbye.”

 “You’ll be back before the end of break, right?” Ash worried her lip between her teeth.

 He turned away and walked to the airport’s glass doors. His guitar weighted heavy on his shoulders.

She called out for him. “Sal, please. Just one last time-“

“I can’t do it, Ashley!” Sal whipped around, throwing his hands out in surrender and accidentally knocking over his suitcase onto the hot pavement. “I _can’t_ do this! I can’t sit around and pretend I’m fine when I’m _not!_ I can’t sit around and wait for him to get better because he _doesn’t want to!_ I’m not going to wait forever. And neither should you. He’s being shitty to _all of us_ by not trying!”

“He’s just sick-“

“No, he’s _selfish.”_

She shook her head. “Sal-“

“I quit, by the way.” He said the words automatically and they hung heavy in the air like smoke.

“What?”

“I quit the week Larry tried it. I quit the band, and I quit the studio, and I’m quitting music and _fuck it,_ Ashley. I’m quitting this too. I fucking quit. I’m a quitter.”

The emotions were switching rapidly on her face. “You…you what?!” Her voice was suddenly a scream. “You quit the band?! And didn’t fucking tell us?! Sal, that was weeks ago!” Tears of anger brewed in her eyes. “You fucked us all over!” She was stuttering, impossible for her to find the words that could accurately describe the torture Sal was putting her through. “You…Larry isn’t the selfish one, you fucker. You are.” She threw down his duffle bag on the pavement and kicked it so hard it rolled over off the curb. “Fuck you! Have fun in Nockfell, you prick.”

She jumped back into the Uber and slammed the door behind her, making her driver jump. As they drove away, she flipped Sal off through the glass.

He couldn’t even be upset. He deserved it.

That flight was the longest five hours of his entire life. He couldn’t listen to music without thinking of Todd and Ash and Maple and Neil and _Larry._

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

The second he landed, he called Travis and just unloaded on him. The people sitting around him were looking at him like he was insane as he sobbed under his mask, whining and crying and explaining every little detail on how he lost the love of his life, his best friend, his career, and his _entire life_ in seconds.

“It’s okay, Sal. It’s okay.” Travis shushed him. “I get it, okay? You were a babysitter, not a boyfriend. It’s fucking hard, dude. I get it. My therapist here put me on a dating ban for a year because of this shit, yeah? You can’t date someone while they go through major change like this. It’s not healthy for you. We can focus on the ‘how’ later. But the ‘why’ of leaving is totally fine. Please just breathe, the last thing we need is for you to pass out in the middle of Ass-Fuck-Nowhere, America.”

He had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Nowhere to keep going. No job, no hope. And not a soul in Nockfell to keep him sane.

And that’s when Travis told him to do something he never would have thought of alone.

“Just call your dad, Sal. He’s in town, right? You have someone then, right?”

It had been so long since he had tried to call his father that his number was all the way at the bottom of Sal’s contacts. And it wasn’t under ‘Dad’. It was under Henry. He didn’t remember doing that, but it must have been right after a fight. Oh well.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

If this man let him go to voicemail, Sal was going to explode.

“Hey, dad.”

“Sal? Wha-“ There was the sound of feet shuffling against wood in the background. “What’s up, buddy?”

“I’m at the airport. Can you come pick me up?”

“The…the airport? What?”

 Sal nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m, uh, waiting outside baggage claim. If you can come get me.”

 “I…Of course. Of course, of course. I’m on my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Long time no see. Updates are going to remain slow but they also WILL keep coming! I'm an adult who doesn't get paid to write this so I have to budget my time to make sure bills get paid. Please understand.
> 
> Thank you for all the continued support, kind words, cosplays, art and more. They mean the world to me. Thank you. Seriously. Thank you.


	29. Chapter 29

Sal opened his eye slowly, blinking hard as the sun filtered through his childhood bedroom window. He moaned and pulled his red comforter over his head, hiding his face from the light. He looked down at his lanky pale body. For a moment, he was sure he was in high school again. Waking up his old room did that to him more than once. Waking up, feeling this weird mix of dread and excitement to be young again, and then having his twenties slapped back in his face when he looked down at his tattooed finger.

Before leaving his room, he put a bandaid on it.

And he put his plastic face on, too.

The apartment was exactly how he left it when he moved out. Boring. Plain. Not much decoration, for it wasn’t like Henry to be flashy. He was simple, boring and plain, just like the apartment. His socked feet shuffled across the hardwood down the hall to the kitchen.

Sounds of dishes being washed welcomed Sal to the room. Henry's back was to him as he scrubbed, humming some odd song while he put away the dishware for one.

"Hey." Sal croaked out.

His father jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, sending water spraying over the counter. “You’re up!” Henry whipped around. “Jesus, you’re quiet as ever. You’ve always been a little too-“

“Invisible?” He rose an eyebrow.

“Sneaky.” His father said firmly.

Sal plopped down onto wooden chair at the table. “Yeah. Whatever.” He muttered.

Minutes of silence followed. The clinking of plates was the only noise. It rattled Sal’s bones.

“Sal…” Henry trailed off while putting away a clean dish. “You know you don’t have to wear the mask around me.”

He didn’t respond. He just sat there.

“I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you this whole time. Hiding in your room, never taking the face off.” His town was joking but his eyes were full of worry.

No response.

Henry tried again. “You should go into town today! Get some coffee. Walk around.”        

“Why?”

“It’s been three days and you’ve maybe eaten some toast when I’m not home. Maybe. I think we should try to get some pep back in your step!” He said. “Here, you know what? Take my card. Spend a day to yourself. And tonight…if you’re willing, I would love to take you to the old diner for dinner tonight.” He smiled. “Like old times.”

Sal just shrugged. “Sure. I guess.” He could hear Ash’s voice in the back of his head telling him that a day out would be good for him. But he could also hear her calling him an asshole. “I, uh, probably should eat.”

Had it really been three days? It felt like a century, yet somehow as if he had just flown in last night. Time was odd when your heart was broken. Time was even odder after refusing to turn on your phone. Travis had been contacting him through email, but nothing he had said had implied that it had been three days.

Three days with no food. Okay.

“Yes. Go down to the coffee shop! Get yourself something good. Have a fun day.” Henry nodded. “You know, Maple and Chug are back in town! They’re staying with Maple’s family. I heard her baby will be due any day now. I saw her mom the other day at the grocery store, I’m sure they would love to see you-“

“Dad.” Sal said stiffly. “Not now.”

His tone of voice shut Henry right up. He didn’t hesitate to get up from the table, leaving his dad silent in the kitchen while rushing to throw on a sweatshirt and jeans over his pajamas and boxers.

Shower? Not likely. Brushed hair? Don’t count on it. He didn’t have the energy for that. He didn’t have the energy for anything. But maybe he did need to get out of the house, before he ripped off what was left of his face.

He didn’t have the spirit to tie his shoes. He threw on old sandals from the hall closet. His toes were going to fall off in the frigid March. He didn’t care. Maybe the cold would wake up his soul and remind him what it felt like for his brain to work.

After stepping out of the apartment, heading downstairs and leaving the building, he realized something tragic: he couldn’t even feel the cold now.

Was it possible to be so broken and numb that your skin would forget what winter felt like?

Sal learned it was very possible.

He forgot gloves, too. And he didn’t even feel his blue fingers trembling.

Nockfell didn’t change an inch. Maybe this was the one spot on earth that time never touched. No new buildings, no new cars. It had been years. Or maybe it hadn’t, and the last few years really had just been a horrific nightmare. Sal was fifteen and just moving in. It was his first night outside of Jersey. Maybe he wanted that. Maybe that’s what he needed.

The old theatre was the same. And so was the diner, and the library. Downtown Nockfell looked exactly how it did every single high school winter. Snow perched on every ledge, but somehow barely touched the ground. The air was sharp and painful when the breeze stabbed into Sal’s cheeks. He couldn’t feel it, but he could feel his skin rejecting the idea of being outside.

The coffee shop wasn’t crowded. It must be a weekday. What time was it? Late enough for it to be empty. That was good, at least. Less people to smell his depression.

The kid at the register looked exactly how a kid in Nockfell working at a coffee shop would look.

“That mask looks familiar. Is there like a Comic-Con in town? Who are you dressed as?”

Sal grimaced. “It’s a prosthetic. Not a mask.”

 “Oh, shit. Sorry.” The cashier looked down awkwardly and tapped his finger on the screen. “Cool. Cool. The name for it?"

"Sal."

"Cool. Uh, go to the end of the bar. It’ll be there when it’s done.”

Sal just muttered thanks before walking away, but he could hear the barista whispering over to the cashier. “Dude!” He whispered. “He’s from that band! That’s Sally Face!”

“That emo band?” The cashier muttered. “Ew.”

“Shut up, you liked their songs!”

“I like Basement and that’s it.” He hissed.

Sal was so happy that no one could see his lips quiver under his mask. He wished there was a way to completely disappear from the planet. He wanted to erase the last five years of his life. He wanted to dissolve.

Fuck.

The second they called out his drink, he grabbed it and rushed out. He could bare to be there any longer. He found himself on a bench in the middle of town, near the frozen fountain by the library and the local daycare. He shivered his ass off on the cold metal, chugging his coffee, praying that with each blink that maybe he would be a kid again and nothing would hurt.

It’s funny, though. He was so upset he couldn’t even remember any good memories from being younger. He didn’t have a moment he wanted to go back to. He just knew he didn’t want to be here.

Travis had been digitally holding his hand through all the pain, but Sal hadn't been cooperating. Travis tried to talk things through, and Sal was so far gone he would just comment on what was around him. There was nothing inside to talk about anymore. He kept getting pushed to get a therapist. Travis would be out of rehab soon, and he was pushing to visit too. But Sal was bad at talking now. Travis was more than understanding. He had actually somehow become a better conversationalist because of rehab, and Sal liked that he could carry the conversation on without much help.

Sal watched the occasional person walk past and nearly swallowed his tongue from how desperately he gulped at the drink. He was starving. Dammit. There was nothing in his stomach but churning acid, and the coffee certainly wasn’t helping that feeling get any better. Burning, burning, burning – his throat, his gut, his skin, his eye. He might just melt into the ground.

He lost track of time very quickly. It was easy to do that now. The only way he knew that time had passed was because his fingernails were turning dark purple and he couldn’t feel his lips. He stood and slowly started to trudged back to the apartment. So much for getting out of the house.

It was interesting. He thought for sure his heart would be full of more…longing. More loss. But it wasn’t the breakup that was slowing him down. In fact, it felt like there wasn’t even a breakup. Maybe because it had been over before he even realized it. Maybe it was over from the start.

He instead was consumed with the overwhelming feeling of missing time. Regret. He had wasted so much. He had failed so much. He had to start from scratch and that was the worse feeling in universe.

He never planned past the next year. He never thought he would need to. Music was going so perfectly. It was going to carry them – him – through the next few years. He was going to win a Grammy. He was going to become an old retired rockstar that guessed judged on stupid reality shows.

He _wasn’t_ going to be twenty-four, single and jobless and terrified and back in Nockfell.

But life is funny like that.

When he got back to the apartment, Henry was gone. There was a note on the table.

            _Hey, bud! Headed to the store. I’ll be back in a few hours. Dinner at six?_

Six came too soon.

Sal spent most of it in a hot bath. Sitting in hot water didn’t take a lot out of him, but being in his own head did. He put on the same clothes he was wearing before he washed up. He still didn't brush his hair. It stuck out in all directions. He needed a haircut soon. It was starting to get a bit too long.

The walk to the diner was silent, despite Henry’s attempts. Sal wasn’t in the mood to talk. Maybe he never would be again.

Henry was grinning when the waitress brought their food. Sal just poked his burger with his pinkie and grimaced.

“Please can you just try to get excited. You love this place.”

“ _Used_ to love this place.” Sal pushed a fry on his plate. He suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

Henry sipped at his drink. “You know, I wanted to talk to you about something now that you’re home.”

Sal’s eye traced the table until it reached his father’s face. “Oh?”

“I wanted to say that I’m happy that you’re back.”

He scoffed. "That's bullshit."

Henry looked taken aback. "Excuse me?"

“You’re happy I failed.” He sneered. Ash's words started to echo in his head again. 

“No!” He said quickly. “Of course not! I’m just happy you’re home. I wanted to-“

“You’re happy I failed.” Sal repeated. “And you’re happy I’m home because you couldn’t bare to see your gay son being a fucking freak on a stage.” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you said, right?”

“And I’m sorry. I am so deeply sorry for what I said and did.”

“Sorry doesn’t make me feel better.” Sal said. “Sorry doesn’t make me understand. Why didn’t you support me?”

“Because I was a bad father.” He said. “And I admit that.”

“You never came to any of my shows.”

“I just couldn’t handle seeing my son prance around in a skirt on stage-“

“I haven’t worn a dress since high school.” He scowled.

“You know what I mean-“

“I don’t!” Sal cried. Patrons in the restaurant were starting to glance over.

Henry pitched the bridge of his nose. “Sal, I…I just was scared for you.”

“Why?!”

“Because you’re my son!” He cried, slamming his hands down on the table. “And after losing Diane, my biggest fear was losing you! And I did, Sal! I lost you.”

The table was silent.

“I lost you, Sal.” He continued. “I just…I never could relate to you. I never _got_ you. But dammit, I wanted to! I tried! I thought I tried. I just wanted to have a family. I wanted to have _you_ , Sal.”

“But…you didn’t want me.” Sal said quietly. “You wanted someone else. _You_ were the one who stopped talking to _me_. You tried to-“

“I know what I did. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t regret it every single day. I still don’t understand you. I still don’t think I ever will. But I want to try. And I want my son more than anything in the entire world.” Henry took a deep breath and reached into his back pocket. “I, uh, was going to wait to talk about this. But I don’t know if that’s smart now.” He pulled out a piece of paper and held it out to Sal.

He didn’t take it. “What is this?” He stared it down.

“It’s my certificate. To celebrate a year sober from my AA course.”

Those were words that Sal never expected to hear. They stopped his heart. “Dad…”

He sat the paper on the table. “I was…I was going to mail it to you when you had an address again. Properly. I know you didn’t want to talk to me. And…I know I started that. But I wanted to tell you that I wanted to try again. I…I was so happy when you called me, buddy. I was so happy my son needed me again. And, if you’ll have me…” He reached his hand across the table. “I would be honored to be your real dad again.”

Sal didn’t take his hand at first. “I…Dad, I don’t…”

“I know there’s a lot more to fix then just this.” He said. “But I want this to be the first step. If that’s okay.”

“I need more time.” Sal said. “But I…” He felt like a child again. “I would like that.” He took his dad’s hand.

Henry gently squeezed. “Thank you. That means a lot.” He pulled back and smiled. “Thank you. And you can stay with me for as long as you need. I don’t know what happened-“

“I’ll talk about it when I’m ready.”

He nodded. “Of course. Just know that I’ll help how ever I can.”

“You can’t help.” Sal looked down at the table. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to tell me, then. But I do want to know one thing. I want to know what your next step is.”

“Next step?”

“What’s your plan?”

“Plan?”

“I have a whole college fund for you. Unused and tucked away. I’ve been saving it, just in case today ever came. You can use it for whatever you want. So, Sal. What’s your plan?”

Sal looked down at the table. “I never thought I would need a plan.”

“Neither did I. You did so many amazing things. And I’m so proud of your music career.”

“It was a waste.”

He shook his head. “No, Sal. Nothing is ever a waste. We learned that in AA. Not a single moment is a waste. You just spent your time doing something for a while, and you learned from it and you grew. For better or for worse, it happened. And it happened for a reason. There’s no such thing as wasted time. Only finished chapters in a bigger story.”

A bigger story.

A plan.

A purpose.

A passion.

A path.

Where would he even find that?

Fucking Christ.

Is googling ‘how to find your life path as a young adult’ embarrassing?

Sal woke up the next morning knowing that answer. And a few more answers. He had fallen asleep with his laptop on his chest, old soft rock playing off of the speakers and multiple webpages open about various topics and places.

Each site said something different. Each video spoke a new truth.

But one thing caught his eye more than the others.

The next morning, maskless, he left his room with a pep in his step. He hugged his laptop to his chest and sat down at the table, wiggling in his chair. His dad had pancakes out on the grill and the maple scent covered both of them. He turned around and smiled. “Morning, Sal. I made your favorite.”

“Peanut butter pancakes.” They said in unison. They both shared a small smile before Sal pulled out the computer and started to click around.

“What’s that?”

“Well…” He said slowly. “I could do anything I wanted with my college fund, right?”

His father nodded.

He pushed his computer across the table. “Well…then what about college?”

His dad walked over to the table and placed a plate of food in front of his son. Henry’s eyes squinted as he looked over the webpage. They slowly widened with joy as he processed what he was seeing. He started nodding excitedly. “Yes. Yes, I think this is a wonderful plan.” He looked over to Sal. “Is…is this truly what you want?”

He nodded. “More than anything.”

“Alright.” Henry started clicking around the computer. “Let’s get this started, then. August is sooner than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for being so patient! There are only two chapters and an epilogue left, so we're in the endgame now.
> 
> Again, I wanted to say I'm so grateful for all the art and cosplays I've seen. I'm honored. You all are so damn talented!
> 
> And remember that you can check out my tumblr for updates and also headcanon bullshit for this fic! I love answering questions and giving details I couldn't include haha

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Feel free to share with your fellow Salarry trash and enjoy. It's my first time writing a fanfic in literally six years so forgive me if it's rough.


End file.
